Let the Good Times Roll
by Concupiscence66
Summary: Old Gregg is still in love with Howard Moon and enlists his father's help in tracking down his fuzzy little man-peach.  This story will get dark!  You are warned!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13 for this chapter

Pairings: Howard/Vince pre-slash, Howard/Old Gregg pre-slash

Summary: Old Gregg misses Howard and wants him back.

Warnings: so far, only porpoise rape and violence but it's an Old Gregg story, it's going to be dark.

Author's note: I'm just going to stop fussing about and jump in.

.

He's a cockney nutjob, yes. He's a monster and he'll stab you up as soon as look at ya, but he ain't all bad. Did he rape a porpoise? Yes. He freely admits it. He's not proud, the porpoise was a bit of a slag, but a man has needs.

Go ahead, call him a baddie. Say he ain't got no right living on this earth, staining the soil with his potent cockney urine. He won't argue. Just don't call 'im a bad father. When that porpoise turned up to be up the duff, the Hitcher took responsibility. He looked at that disgusting man fish with a mangina and said, "It's the son I never wanted and the daughter I would have drowned a birth except she has gills. Oh, I'll raise him up right. He'll be a better man than I and a better woman than I'll ever have." Then he got bored and dumped his only son/daughter in Black Lake. He didn't neglect his spawn. No, never let it be said that Old Greggory went without Bailey's or watercolors. When Gregg complained of being lonely, The Hitcher brought him Rick James. Too bad Rick James scared the little merman with his bizarre sexual proclivities and penchant for "love games". Gregg set Rick James free and tried to find his own friends. Those friends were now mounted on the wall of his murky cave. Luckily, the Funk showed up and Old Gregg was happy for a time.

Then he met Howard Moon. The Northerner stole Gregg's heart and the Funk, leaving Gregg more alone and more insane than ever.

And that's saying something.

Gregg called to his old man and said, "Please, Dad, please help me find my fuzzy little man peach. I don't want to be alone. Old Gregg is lonely."

The Hitcher looked at his boy, his hideous and ungodly spawn with his sad blue eyes and did what he knew he had to do. He reached out to stab his son/daughter in the gut.

It's a proud moment in a father's life when his son turns a knife on him. Before the Hitcher even got close, Old Gregg had slashed his wrist and was threatening to use his old dad's intestines to decorate his cave.

"I'm Old Gregg and I'm lonely! Find me Howard Moon and bring him to me. I want to feel his strong arms around me. I want him to take my dainty hand in marriage. I want to bake my famous crumble and hold him until he gets old and dies. Then I'll snuggle his desiccated corpse."

"Howard Moon! I know the bloke! I have generously opted not to rape him on several occasions although he obviously deserves a raping. You don't wear a mustache if you_ don't_ want to be raped," the Hitcher exclaimed, trying to hold his guts inside his skin. Gregg had slashed him up a treat. Like father like fishy bastard.

"I love him. I need him. I'm Old Gregg."

"Oh, you are a crazy son of a bitch and I love you. Let me have me intestines and I'll be on my way to bring you your true love. One Howard Moon, coming up."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince pre-slash

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: nothing but excessive drinking in this part

Summary: Howard and Vince hit the Big Easy

Author's note: linky bit and expostition

Howard did a double take when he saw Vince with a head of shiny golden hair.

"You've stopped dying your hair?" Howard asked in surprise.

"This ain't my real color! My real color is well mousey. I looked like a golden retriever after a mud bath."

"I always thought you looked nice with yellow hair," observed Howard, "like a dandelion."

"That's not a good look, is it, Howard? Not much call for dandelion people at the clubs.

No one wants a weed," Vince explained, "P. Diddy don't want to be seen with crabgrass, does he?"

"Then why are you dying you're hair yellow if you don't want to look like a dandelion?"

"I ain't finished yet, am I? I still got to add the green and purple highlights."

Howard tried to imagine what Vince intended to do. Howard prided himself on his quick and virile mind but he was baffled as to how Vince thought purple and green highlights would look good. Howard had known Vince as a scrawny, knock-kneed little boy wearing rock shirts long enough to be dresses. No matter how Vince tried to transform himself, the same guileless blue eyes dominated his noisy face. All the accessories were superfluous. How could anyone look at anything but those bush baby eyes?

"For Mardi Gras! They're the official colors. I'm going to look amazin'! It'll be genius. I'll be the king of New Orleans!"

"New Orleans is the cradle of jazz. We're going to walk the streets were Louis Armstrong was raised, where King Oliver played the houses of ill repute. We'll be able to ride the riverboats that served as floating conservatories for some of the greatest jazz musicians who ever lived..."

"And they got swamp tours where you can hold a baby alligator!" Vince added with an enthusiastic clap of his hands, "And I'm having' my tits out for anyone who asks until I can make a whole outfit of beads. Imagine that!"

Howard shook his head as his now blond friend pulled up his purple blouse to flash his nipples at an imaginary man on an imaginary balcony.

"Stop fussing with Stationery Village and help me with my hair," Vince implored, his big blue eyes looking ethereal under his golden fringe.

Howard pulled off the white latex gloves that he wore to dust Stationey Village, and put on the purple latex gloves he wore to help Vince die his hair.

xxx

Vince stroked the baby alligator between its eyes. He couldn't understand the alligators at all. Their accents were as bad as the humans. After getting tutored in school by Howard Moon, Vince thought he'd never have trouble understanding anyone ever again. If he could understand Howard's Northern accent well enough to learn algebra, he should be able to understand anything.

He watched enough American telly, he thought he'd be fine in the states. He wasn't prepared for a southern accent that didn't sound like Scarlett O'Hara's. The local accent was thicker than Nutella on a cold day. If you tried to smear their tour guide's accent on bread, your bread would get well ripped up.

Howard explained the motto 'Laissez les bons temps rouler' or, 'Let the good times roll', derived from the uncertainty of life in early colonial life. No one expected to live very long anyway so they were always having it large in the Big Easy. Vince liked that New Orleans was dark and depressing but, in a fun way, like Howard. No matter how much Howard banged on about the city being to blame for the birth of jazz, Vince still loved New Orleans. He'd been off his tits for days, waking up and drinking a Bloody Mary in order to face another day of eating and drinking. Of all the jazzers Howard loved, Louis Armstrong was one of the more tolerable. His songs weren't all depressing and they mostly had words. During the day, Howard dragged him to museums and on educational tours (today it was the swamp tour!) and at night they wandered from bar to bar - seeing all the different bands. Howard wouldn't let them split up because he was afraid of getting stabbed up and thrown in the river so they too turns picking bands to listen to.

There were parades every day and Vince had enough beads to reinvent his entire wardrobe and he hadn't shown his tits to anyone.

Yet.

Howard had been paranoid when he'd won the all expenses paid trip to New Orleans and Vince had to talk him in to going. Howard kept wondering how he'd been entered into the contest in the first place but Vince frequently handed out Howard's information in order to get free gifts so it didn't seem strange to Vince at all. They finally agreed that if they saw anyone following them when they arrived in New Orleans, they would run to security and beg for asylum. So far, so good. The only people following them were drunk girls and a few drunk guys. Even Howard could have pulled if he tried (with the girls or the guys. One guy kept calling him Pappa Bear). The girls liked his accent and thought his mustache was well British. Vince kept his mouth shut and let the girls imagine there was a place in the world where Howard was fashionable.

At the end of every night, they stumbled back to their hotel room on Decatur St. and passed out in their respective beds alone. Since moving in together over Naboo's shop, they had taken to spending more of their evenings apart. Howard spent his evenings at boring jazz clubs or with his boring jazz friends while Vince went out to interesting places and had fun. It was nice to hang out with Howard again like in the old days.

Vince begrudgingly handed over the baby alligator to Howard. Howard gently stroked the gator between the eyes as Vince had done.

"Does he like this?" Howard asked.

"Dunno. His accent is well thick. He's from the bayou all right."

Howard laughed and passed the alligator to the next passenger. Vince noticed a sad look in Howard's eyes and rubbed his shoulder against his friend's.

"Makes you miss the zoo, eh?"

Howard puffed himself up, "What? Of course not. The zoo was rubbish. We barely had any real animals..."

"But it wasn't always like that."

The air went out of Howard, "No. It used to be something special. I wish you could have seen it when Tommy was there."

Vince rested his head on Howard's shoulder as the tour guide answered questions about alligators in his inscrutable accent. Maybe it was because he was feeling sentimental or maybe it was because he was in a strange land but instead of pushing him away, Howard rested his cheek on Vince's head.

xxx

Howard was dancing with a girl. Vince was dancing with five girls but that wasn't anything new. Girls loved dancing with Vince but Howard? Howard was dancing with a real, live ,beautiful girl. The music was too loud for him to ruin it with his jazzy nonsense and the girl was gazing up at him like he was some kind of Prince Charming.

Howard was going to pull.

Vince wasn't the slightest bit surprised when Howard pulled him outside to talk about having some 'private time' with his 'young lady friend'.

Howard's eyes kept shifting between Vince and his girl, like he was afraid she'd vanish if he looked away too long.

"This is a dangerous city, yeah? I don't want you wandering the streets alone. Maybe you could stay in the lobby..."

"I'm not hanging out in the lobby while you're shagging some bird in our room..."

"She's not 'some bird', she's a lovely and interesting..."

"What's her name?"

"Eileen? Irene? It was loud in there but the point is..."

"You've got two hours. In two hours, I will be sat on the couch in the lobby waitin' for you to come get me. You wait too long and I'm coming up."

Howard agreed with some reticence and headed off with the new love of his life, whatever-her-name-was. He called out daddish warnings over his shoulder to Vince about not talking to strangers and keeping his wallet pinned to his clothing as his female companion laughed and called him sweet.

Vince wanted to be happy for Howard. He decided to drink Hurricanes until he was happy.

xxx

Two girls escorted Vince back to his hotel. He wasn't actually blind but he could see where there term 'blind drunk' came from. The girls seemed a bit disappointed when he told them they weren't going upstairs and his hotel room was occupied. After a few warning glares from the desk clerk, Vince did his best to sit up and look proper.

He didn't recall passing out but the clerk was standing over him and gently suggesting he return to his room. His tone was kind but his eyes were flint so Vince staggered to the elevator. The heaving movement was almost too much to bear and he crawled to his room on his hands and knees. After knocking loudly and allowing time for frantic dressing, he pushed the door open. Howard's bed was rumpled but empty, as was the shower. Vince called him on his cell phone and heard the muffled ring coming from the safe. It took him a few times to open the safe because Howard had used Vince's birthday as the code.

Eventually, Vince remembered his real birthday was written on his passport. After taking a moment to cringe at his real age, he opened the safe and found Howard's cell phone and wallet.

Vince called down to the front desk and was assured that while Howard had come in with a young lady and appearing 'highly intoxicated', he did not leave. Vince checked under the bed and in the closet just to be sure.

Then he called the police.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Let the Good Times Role

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince pre-slash

Rating: R (to be safe)

Warnings: language, Hitcher peeing, mild grossness

Summary: Howard gets to know his lady friend - it doesn't go well

Author's note: building the angst wheelbarrow slowly, be patient

"I think your boy can take care of 'imself," Irene teased, "I heard 'im talk, sounds like 'e's got a little cockney in'im."

Howard nodded and looked over his shoulder, just in case Vince was chasing after him, begging not to be left alone.

He wasn't.

He's probably already been stabbed.

Howard started walking back towards the bar but Eileen/Irene held his arm tight.

"'e's a big boy, 'e'll be fine on 'is own."

"He's really quite naive. He just assumes he'll get on with anybody he meets," Howard explained, his tongue thoroughly loosened by too many drinks, "just because he does get on with everyone he meets doesn't mean there won't come a time..."

Howard was distracted by being pulled down by the collar into a passionate kiss. The feeling of a strange tongue in his mouth should have made Howard queasy but there was something familiar about Eileen/Irene. She had big, clear, blue eyes and a way of tilting her head up to look at him that him feel ten feet tall.

Not that there should be anything familiar about that. The only woman who ever looked at him like that was his mother and she was usually stoned and simply marveling that he was able to do things like find the car keys (on the key-shaped key holder he'd made) or the spare car keys (looked in his room for occasions when he was unable to intercept the keys from his intoxicated parents and put them on the key holder before they were lost).

"I'm sure 'e'll be fine for a few 'ours," she murmured as she ran her hands over his chest,

"even without 'is 'usband lookin' out for 'im."

"What part of America are you from?" Howard asked, belatedly noticing her strange accent getting thicker.

"I'm from everywhere. I guess you could say, I've been around," she said with a cheeky smile.

Howard wrapped his arms around her slim waist and looked into her all-to-lovely eyes, "I'm sorry. What did you say your name was?"

"It's Elsie, my boy, they call me Elsie."

The name rang a warning bell somewhere in Howard's drunken mind but it was muffled by entirely too much rum. Howard had spent his whole life being the responsible one; first for his parents and then for Vince. It couldn't hurt to, just this once, ignore the obnoxiously pedantic angel on his shoulder (who seemed more interested in curfews and organized stationery than actual morality) and do something that felt wrong.

xxx

Howard's head was swimming as he staggered towards the room he was sharing with Vince. The Hurricanes Elsie had been forcing down his throat had clearly gone to his head and his stomach. He could never tolerate the sugary drinks that Vince considered a fifth food group (the first four being crisps, wine gums, licorice, and chocolate) but he could hardly refuse the beautiful Elsie. When Elsie pushed him down on the bed, he was grateful to be on his back and put one leg down to keep the room from spinning.

"Oh, 'oward. I'm starin' ta think some'un put somefink in your drink. You don't look well."

Howard barely registered the words as Elsie straddled his waist. He dearly hoped he wasn't going to be sick.

"I'm normally a moderate drinker. Old moderate Moon they call me. Howard Moon doesn't usually go in for excess but in the company of a lovely young lady like yourself - I was inclined to make an exception."

Elsie smiled and stroked the side of Howard's face, "I do hope you is a gentleman, Mr. Moon. I'd 'ate to fink I'm gettin' messed up wif a cad."

Howard put his hand over Elsie's smaller one, "I'm no cad. Howard Moon is first and foremost, a gentleman."

He kissed her palm lightly before she began stroking her fingers through his hair. He was glad he'd used some of Vince's shampoo and his mane was looking rather shiny and manageable.

"Good," Elsie whispered into his ear, "cause you hear stories about these men who pretend to be in love only to rob and abandon their future brides - leavin' 'em heartbroke and more than a little insane."

"I would never do that."

The hand tightened painfully in his hair, "S'at right, Moon? So you've never abandoned some'un who loved you? Took his only friend while you was at it?"

Howard pressed the small hands into his skull, until she was forced to release her grip - his zoo training was the closest he'd ever come to self-defense courses. The hands simply moved to his throat. He struggled and managed to know Elsie off of him and onto the floor.

"Old Gregg?" he asked, his throat feeling bruised from the inside out.

"Actually, I'm 'is old dad and you done my son wrong. I'm 'ere to make it right."

The lovely Elsie transformed into the monstrous Hitcher. Only the wide blue eyes remaining the same. The same eyes as Old Gregg.

xxx

Howard tried to open his eyes but he couldn't see. It took him a few minutes to realized he was tied up and apparently blind folded.

Exactly what he expected to happen in New Orleans if he and Vince were separated. He should have never strayed from the itinerary.

He was trying to get his bearings when something was jammed down his throat and he began gagging.

"Best ya be sick now, 'fore I put the gag on ya. Don't want you to asphyxiate 'fore the weddin' now, do we?"

Howard did his best not to be sick on himself but once the spasms hit his stomach, they didn't stop. He felt like he was vomiting up everything he'd taken in since arriving in New Orleans. The taste of his own bile was infinitely preferable to that of the Hitcher's bony finger.

"Ah, you've gone and pissed ya'self, my boy."

Howard hadn't even noticed the warmth in his pants until then, he was still shaking and sweating.

"I'd love to piss on ya me'self but, my boy's a bit of the jealous type. 'e's also a bit of the murderin' psychopath type so I'm just gonna have a piss on this crack head over here," the Hitcher explained as he jammed a cloth into Howard's mouth and covered it with what felt like duct tape.

Howard could hear the absurdly strong stream of urine in the distance. He fought vainly against his restraints but it was a matter of minutes until he was tossed in the trunk of a vehicle. He tried to be like Sherlock Holmes and listen for clues - use his remaining senses. Instead, he promptly passed out.

xxx

Vince took Howard's cash card to an ATM. Howard had wisely never told him the PIN number but Vince got it on the first try. It was his birth date again. He was shocked by the amount of money Howard had managed to save up considering how little they had always made. Vince wanted to go shopping, surround himself in beautiful things that would make him feel secure, but he only took out enough for food. He had no idea how long it would take to track down Howard or what expenses he might encounter. The death cab had been quite pricey.

Vince's eyes stung with the idea that Howard might be dead. Again.

It was different not being on his home turf. He didn't even have Naboo to help. He and Bollo were off with the Shaman Council in Brazil for Carnival. He wouldn't be answering his phone (or seeing straight) for at least a week.

He was on his own, in a strange country and surrounded by people he could barely understand. The police weren't bothered that Howard was missing. It hadn't been long enough for him to be considered properly missing and the sergeant had been under the very wrong impression that Howard might have acted impulsively under the influence of alcohol and a lovely stranger.

When Howard had been accidentally dosed with acid (by his crazy hippy parents), he'd come straight round to Vince's and sat on their couch drinking tea, chasing away imaginary spiders and helping Vince with his maths homework. Vince had wanted to coddle Howard then, having learned from his parents that 'drugs are bad', but the older boy would have none of it. He would only allow Vince to inspect his biscuits and tea for spiders as he tried to carry on like nothing was amiss.

Howard wasn't impulsive and if Howard said he would be somewhere, he was there.

Vince walked to an outdoor cafe and ate beignets as he sketched a picture of Eileen/Irene. He had a good memory for faces, especially pretty girl faces. He drew her blue eyes first but when he was done, he knew it was wrong. The eyes needed to be bigger.

His hand was shaking as he finished the portrait. It would be good enough to show to the police and the local bars. He would do just that tonight but first, it was back to the hotel. He needed to book a swamp tour.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Let the Good Times Roll Part 4

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: violence, drug references

Pairings: Vince/Howard pre-slash, Howard/Old Gregg

Summary: Vince is on the hunt, Howard is settling in.

Vince dangled as far off the boat as he could while a couple of lovely young ladies held onto to his legs.

"He's a funky merman in a tutu. You can't miss him."

"Whatchu sayin'?" replied the alligator.

"He's half fish, half man, half Rick James. He's got a kind of seaweed gheri curl." Vince had only seen Old Gregg once. He'd saved Howard from his funky sea lovin' on the night of Howard's birthday. They should have both known the pencil case girl was too good to be true. When she had eagerly agreed to flirt with Howard for money, Vince should have sent her Diva Zappa-looking ass packing.

"You on the drugs, boy?" asked the alligator with judgemental eyes.

"No, he's real and I think he's in Louisiana somewhere and he's got my best mate... my best friend, Howard Moon. He's tall and has little eyes, likes jazz and stationery."

"The fish-man?"

"No, Howard! The fish-man is shorter than Howard and has blue eyes. Let me show you their pictures."

Vince crawled back into the boat and grabbed his sketch pad.

"Wha' he say, boy?" asked the captain as he helped Vince stretch out towards the alligator, "Always wondered what they think 'bout, sunnin' themselves on the the rocks."

"He thinks I'm on drugs," Vince explained as he held out a drawing of Howard and one of Old Gregg.

"Is you?" asked the captain as he gripped Vince's ankles.

"No! I'm just trying to save my best friend from being forcibly married to a sea monster."

"You is on drugs, ain't you?" the alligator asked, his lack of faith troubling Vince.

"I'm dead sober. Howard's my best mate and I don't know what I'll do... Please, help me."

The alligator nodded his head and everyone on the boat gasped.

"Coincidence," snorted the captain.

The gator shook his head no and said, "Tell that cap'in a yours not to be so haughty. An' tell'im to throw me another marshmallow. Them is tasty."

"He wants another marshmallow," Vince translated and waited for the confection to be tossed before adding, "And he thinks you're full of yourself."

"I'll spread the word through the swamp. I sun on this rock pretty regular if you needs to find me. Good day to ya, pretty lady man."

With that, the alligator climbed back into the water and swam away.

xxx

Howard gagged on the thick and creamy liquid being forced down his throat.

Bailey's. Of all the things Old Gregg and the Hitcher could have been forcing down his throat, Howard welcomed the Bailey's. It tasted of beige.

"That's right, Howard. Wake up now. You're back with Old Gregg, my fuzzy little man peach. We're gonna be married. I'm old Gregg!"

"'e knows you're Old Gregg! Not like 'e's gonna get you confused wit' sum'un else now, is 'e?" the Hitcher lectured is an almost fatherly way.

Old Gregg looked into his father's eyes, "I'm Old Gregg!"

xxx

"I'm fine with what I have on, really, Old Gregg. You needn't make a fuss. I'll just keep on what I'm wearing."

Howard's clothes were wet with sweat, urine and vomit but he really didn't want to take his clothes off anywhere near Old Gregg. The Hitcher seemed to be gone but there was no knowing when he'd return. He'd only said he was off for a good rape and pillage. How long did that take? An hour? A year?

"But Old Gregg has nice clothes for you. Nice, creamy beige clothes to go with your little shifty brown eyes."

The merman looked so sincere and eager to please, one could almost forget he was a psychotic murderer.

"Thank you, Greggory. That's very thoughtful of you."

"Is it? Is Old Gregg thoughtful?"

Howard froze, unsure how to proceed.

"Answer me. It's rude not to answer a question. Old Gregg doesn't like being treated rudely."

"You're very thoughtful, Old Gregg. Thank you for the clothes. Where can I go and change?" Howard answered, his voice cracking with nerves. As a child, Howard had spent a lot of time in the care of his Nan, before she was diagnosed as being Bi-Polar. He tried to remember the techniques he'd used to deal with her - people had always marveled at his ability to get along with Nan Moon.

"You can change right here. You've seen Old Gregg, now Old Gregg wants to see you."

His tone was almost sweet. Howard's hands were shaking.

"I'd rather... maintain a little mystery? Save something for..."

"Our honeymoon?" Old Gregg asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes! We want that to be a special night, not sully it with a lot of pre-marital nudity so if you could point me in the direction of a private room..."

"This is it. This is my home," Gregg explained as he waved his hand around the small, dank cave, "It's humble but it's home. That's what Dad says. Dad says I can't live in Black

Lake no more because your pretty little friend would find us."

Howard grabbed at his chest as the claustrophobia set in. He was trapped in a tiny cave, God knows where, with Old Gregg.

_Vince will find me. He always finds me._

"Old Gregg doesn't like your pretty little friend. Your pretty little friend keeps us apart. Why does he do that?" Old Gregg asked with a slight edge in his voice, "Why doesn't he want Old Gregg to be happy?"

Howard remembered two things that had helped him survive time spent with Nan Moon. Failing to find a sofa to hid under, Howard went with the second option: abject cowardice.

"He wants you to be happy, Old Greg! I want you to be happy. Everyone wants you to be happy. What can I do to make you happy?" Howard asked with what he hoped was a nice smile.

"You can put on the clothes Old Gregg brought you."

Howard took the beige clothes from Old Gregg's hands. It was a vintage beige suit, perhaps from the early 1950's and in very good shape.

"This is very nice, where did you get this?"

"It was supposed to be a suit for a marriage but the groom ran away from his lovely bride," Old Gregg explained, holding Howard's gaze without a blink. Howard's knees felt a bit weak. He wondered what happened to the husband to be but he didn't dare ask.

"So if you could just turn your back, I'll change," Howard said, aiming for cheerful but sounding terrified to his own ears.

"Oh, no. Old Gregg knows better than to turn his back on someone. Especially a slippery character like yourself. You don't want to go running away from me again, do you? That wouldn't be nice."

"You could... close your eyes?" Howard asked, afraid of pushing too hard.

"Or I could keep them open."

"That works, too."

"Thank you, sir."

Howard gave a terse nod and began to strip. He hadn't felt so self-conscious about his body since he'd had his third nipple removed. Well, had it transformed into a third ear, a nostril and then a beetle which scurried away and never came back. He had to admit that in the end, Naboo's magic had freed him of his superfluous nipple but it had been an unnecessarily painful process. Naboo said the magic was tricky. Howard thought it might have gone easier if Naboo hadn't eaten shrooms first.

Old Gregg made approving noises as Howard disrobed, causing the man to blush from his hairline to his feet. When he was down to his pants, he couldn't decide which way to turn. He didn't want Old Gregg seeing him from the front but he also didn't want to turn his back on Old Gregg.

For several reasons.

He compromised by doing his best to jump into the dress slacks while covering his manhood with his hand.

The trousers were short in the leg and big in the waist. The dress shirt was short in the arms yet hung nearly to his knees. He put on the suit jacket, wanting as many layers as possible but opted to leave the tie off. He didn't need to help anyone strangle him. Old Gregg and the Hitcher surely had plenty of experience in that arena.

"You look nice, Howard. Very handsome and manly." Gregg's tone was gentle and almost awestruck.

"Thank you, Gregg. And thank you for the clean clothes. Your old man was a bit rough on me," Howard said it what he hoped was a neutral tone.

"Oh, yes. Father can be quite hard but he loves me."

"Is that why he keeps you in a cave at the bottom of the Mississippi?"

"Yes, sir. He always makes sure I have a nice place to live and now we won't have to worry about your pretty friend."

Howard sat down on one of the two chairs in the cave before his knees buckled.

"You mean because he doesn't know where we are, right? You aren't going to _do_ anything to him, are you?"

"What do you mean, Howard? What would I do to your pretty little friend?"

The menace was clear in his tone.

"Gregg, don't... Please, don't hurt Vince. I'm begging you, please don't..."

"Why, motherlicker?" Gregg was quickly across the room and yanking Howard's head back by the hair, "Why should I care about your little friend? He's trying to keep you from me. He's a bad man."

"He's not bad. He just doesn't understand," Howard whimpered.

"What doesn't he understand, sir?"

"Our love? He doesn't know how much I love you, Gregg. If I tell him, he'll understand and he won't be any bother. Just let me talk to him..."

His head hit the table and was pulled back before he had time to register anything but pain.

"You're not going anywhere, Howard Moon. Old Gregg is trying to forgive you but he can't trust you."

It felt like there was an awful lot of blood coming from his head. Old Gregg was smiling.

"I'm sorry, Gregg."

He loosened his grip on Howard's hair and began stroking his fingers through the blood matted curls.

"You've got a cut on your forehead. Old Gregg will fix it up for you. Old Gregg is first aid certified."

"Thank you, Greggory."


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: R

Pairings: Vince/Howard; Old Gregg/Howard

Warnings: non-con touching and sexual behavior, references to violence, child neglet

Summary: Old Gregg prepares dinner, Howard lacks table manners.

Author's note: and into the murky waters we go. Feedback is appreciated, tremendously.

_Howard curled up as tightly as possible under the couch. His heart was beating so loudly he could barely hear his mother's voice._

_"Howie? Howie? Did you sneak some of Mummy's cookies? Howie? Did you eat the cookies Mummy had hidden? Howie? Howie?"_

_Howard slowly nodded his head. He ate the cookies. He thought cookies were safe. _

_Cakes were never safe, but cookies? He'd eaten cookies all his life (all five yeas) and never had a problem before today. The world had gone mad again. _

_He wondered if his heart was going to explode. _

_"Mummy? I don't feel good. I'm scared."_

_"Howie! It's okay, come to Mummy. Let Mummy hold you."_

_Howard wanted a nice safe-feeling hug but comfort couldn't come from his mother. As much as he loved her, she was the main source of chaos in his life. She caused his problems, she couldn't save him from herself._

xxx

Howard looked at the fish on his plate. The fish looked back.

"Greggory... I hate to be difficult but... I can't actually eat a fish with it's scales still on. It's a human thing. Our teeth aren't strong enough. It's a nuisance but there you go."

Howard held his breath until Gregg responded. When the merman looked concerned (and not furious), Howard let out the breath he'd been holding.

"How do humans eat fish, Howard? What do you do with your weak little human teeth?"

"Well, Gregg, we cut off the scales. And the head. Pull out the bones. Flavor it with some spices and... cook it."

Old Gregg laughed, "You're playing games with Old Gregg. You're a funny man. You're making jokes with Old Gregg like you do with your pretty lady man."

Howard tensed at the reference to Vince.

"I'm being serious, Gregg. That's how humans eat fish. I'm partial to a nice panko breading, side of chips..." Howard faltered under Gregg's stare, "But this is fine. This is lovely. Have you got a knife?"

"Oh, yes, Howard. Old Gregg has a knife."

Howard just let the threat hang in the air. His forehead was still pounding from Old Gregg's last burst of anger.

Old Gregg gave Howard an almost sweet smile as he plucked the fish from Howard's plate. With a sharp incisor, Gregg gutted the fish. Soon, Howard had neat strips of raw fish on the plate in front of him.

"Did you learn that in home economics?" Howard asked with a forced laugh.

"I told you I made a crumble. You said you were happy for Old Gregg. Did you mean that?"

Howard swallowed loudly, "I am happy for you, Gregg. I'm sure life hasn't been easy for you..."

"You have no idea what life is like for Old Gregg!"

Howard cowered in fear and felt a bit silly when Old Gregg remained seated and looking calm.

Howard hesitantly picked up a piece of raw fish. He thought of the sushi place he and Vince would occasionally visit. Vince would get pissed on his first Saki, decide he didn't like what he'd ordered and proceed to eat everything off of Howard's plate. Howard bit into the raw fish and imagined alcohol glazed blue eyes staring up at him with unearned admiration.

"Mmmm," Howard purred as he tried not to gag, "Yum."

"Old Greg did good?"

"Mmmm."

xxx

Two hours later, Howard was again drenched in sweat but at least he had a bucket to vomit into. Gregg was surprisingly kind as Howard's entire body rejected the rancid fish. He gratefully slipped into unconsciousness, his sweaty forehead pressed to the cold rock beneath him as Old Gregg held a cold, damp cloth to the back of Howard's neck.

xxx

Howard slipped in and out of consciousness as Old Gregg stripped him of his now ruined suit. Old Gregg's hand were rough and scaly but his touch was gentle as he ran his hands over Howard's body. Howard dimly thought the touch seemed less lecherous than exploratory. Even as Gregg stroked him between his thighs, Howard was reminded more of Vince's fumbling hand (was it sixteen years ago? Seventeen?) than anyone else who had groped him over the years. Howard Moon: Groping Connoisseur. Howard barely stirred as Gregg stroked his flaccid penis and cupped his testicles like he was a prize winning Terrier. When Gregg tried to force a dry finger in his anus, Howard whimpered and Old Gregg quickly withdrew his digit. Howard wondered what Gregg had done with his previous companions like old Curly Jefferson. During his first encounter with the merman, Howard had been waiting for the seemingly inevitable rape with the air of one who is used to seeing Murphy's Law enacted every day of his life.

Now he was naked, weak and helpless and Old Gregg was giving a feel-up whilst wiping the sweat from Howard's brow with a damp cloth. It was horrible but Howard had taken his first acid trip at the age of three - laced lemonade - and he knew how cruel the world could be. It was only a matter of time until things got worse. Perhaps following this sentiment, his brain blessedly decided to shut down for the night and let Gregg carry out his investigations in private.

xxx

"I thought I was just stupid so I would act up, try to make people laugh so they would be laughing with me, you know, not at me. My parents got me a tutor when I was eleven and I couldn't do even the simplest math. Imagine that. They brought in this great big Northern bloke with tiny eyes and hands the size of me head. Oh, he was twelve feet tall, at least and about forty-years old. Course, I realized later he's only about 6'2 and he was sixteen at the time but when you're an eleven-year-old runt... It's all about proportion, I guess. So this great Northern giant keeps asking me questions. I keep tryin' to make him laugh or distract him but he doesn't want to hear it. He is dead serious about making me understand my maths homework and I don't want him to know I'm stupid because he scares me but I want him to like me. I feel like I would be smarter and more mature if this guy liked me. I feel like that sometimes, like you're a very sweet girl and I feel like if you like me, I'll be a little bit sweeter. So he won't stop quizzing me until I break down and tell him the numbers keep moving around on the page and I can't keep track of them. The next week, I'm tested for dyslexia. I'd still think I was stupid if it weren't for him being such a bossy freak. My parents loved him after that. He was a real serious type and me mum was always trying to get him to relax and eat. He was also real skinny, like sickly skinny. He was so nervous. It makes me happy when he gets a little belly now. For years and years he was always on pins and needles and now he can have a few pints and even a pastry and get a little beer belly. I always want to touch his tummy but he won't let me."

Sally looked perplexed, Vince hoped it wasn't his accent again. They'd spent an hour talking before she'd started to understand what Vince was saying.

"So... You are best friends with and share an apartment with your tutor from elementary school?"

"Bit more complicated than that but, yeah. That's how I met Howard. That was the first time he saved me and I saved him."

"He saved you from dyslexia and you saved him from...?"

"His life. His life was rubbish, I helped him make a whole new one. A much better one."

"Until he got abducted by a merman."

Vince frowned, "Yeah. Until then."

Sally sighed and took another sip of drink, "It must be the hurricanes talking but, yes, you can borrow my boat."


	6. Chapter 6

Sally thought it was a yes or no question but clearly she was wrong. It was in fact a question that involved a long story including a cabin in the woods, a gorilla, a shaman, a man named Kodiak Jack and Yetis. Lots of horny Yetis.

"So Howard shows up lookin' like he's on his way to audition for 'Hair', like he's gonna start singing 'Let the Sunshine In' at any minute. Oh, he had on this long robe and hippy face paint, a real flower child. His eyes were well glassy and he says his name is Parsely and starts singing this really catchy song about how we don't need our friends and family and nothing is real. Naboo told me to stay punk and resist..."

Sally looked at Vince's golden hair and sequined top. Even with the green and purple highlights, the word punk did not come to mind. Strange, androgynous, beautiful, confusing, delusional - those were words that described Vince, not punk.

"But then Naboo and Bollo were singing and dancing and Howard was smiling at me so nicely... It just seemed like a good idea, ya know?"

"So you started singing and dancing?" Sally asked as they walked from her truck to the pier. She wanted to hear the end of the story before she and Vince were alone in the swamp. He seemed sweet but he also seemed unhinged and a girl needs to be careful.

"Everything went a bit fuzzy, like I'd been drinking champagne. The Yetis gave me a robe and put my hair in bunches..."

"Bunches?" Sally asked.

Vince used his hands to pull his hair into ponytails, "Bunches."

"Gotcha."

"And I guess they gave me the feather or maybe I did that... I don't remember it very clearly but I was rocking a Pocahontas look and we was all dancing and singing and then the Yeti brought out this big fluffy bed..."

"So they could mate with the four of you?" Sally asked, She was trying to walk slowly, still wondering if she should just make a run for it.

"Apparently that's what they do though it don't make much sense if you ask me."

Sally was glad to hear Vince admit that at least _this_ part of the story was lacking in logic.

"Anyway," Vince continued, "Parsley put his arms around me and just held me... And I was thinking I could be called Bunches, cause of the hair but also because then we'd be Parsley Bunches or maybe Bunches of Parsley and we could start a folk duo. Not like the glam rock folk duo I had with Leroy, that didn't work out at all."

Sally was entranced by the story but also kept her hand on her bag, just in case she needed her gun. There seemed to be a lot of attempts at non-consensual sex happening in the story.

"So he was holding me and I was so happy..." Vince's cheeks pinked slightly, "And then he started kissing me and moving me towards the bed."

Now Sally's cheeks were turning pink. Her lack of attraction to men in general didn't keep her from enjoying a story of man on man loving.

"I remember lying on the bed, with the gown rucked up around my waist and Howard was on top of me, kissing me and... touching me and I think maybe getting me ready for, you know, and then..."

Sally actually leaned forward before catching herself and putting her hand back on her bag. She wasn't going to end up dead at the bottom of a swamp because a beautifully androgynous man told her a dirty story.

"And then?"

Vince shook his head, as though coming out of a trance, "And then I woke up to the sound of a gunshot. Kodiak Jack was there and telling us to run. We were all on the bed and Bollo was between me'n'Howard so I don't know what went on in between. I remember more than anyone else because I was the last to go under the spell. I don't know what happened, if we made love or if the Yetis stopped us or if we passed out... Anything could have happened."

"Do you think the Yetis... mated with the four of you?" Sally asked, unable to help herself. Vince's madness was intoxicating.

"Based on how they went after Kodiak Jack, I think we'd know if that happened to us," Vince explained, his loopy grin returning, "He seemed to enjoy it but he was getting well roughed up by those hairy ladies."

"Did you ever talk to Howard about what happened? Or might have happened?"

Vince shook his head and looked at his feet, hiding behind his hair like a child, "No. I didn't know how he'd feel about it. Especially since he don't remember any of it or why he did it..."

"I think we both know _why_," Sally chided, "Is that the only thing that's gone down between the two of you? Sorry, poor choice of words."

Vince didn't seem to notice the accidental pun, "There've been lots of times when something almost happened or sort of happened but I always started it and he always ended it."

Sally put an arm around his sequined shoulder and Vince leaned into her and whispered, "I don't know what I'd do without him."

And that was the end of Vince's thirty minute answer to the question, "Have you and Howard ever fucked?"

xxx

Sally had cast all reason aside and decided Vince was clearly too sweet to be dangerous, even if he did claim to talk to animals. She now held her gun in case one of the gators didn't care for Vince's questions. He'd chatted with a few otters but said they were 'totally mental - furry little retards' and the birds were also of little help. Vince claimed the alligators had thick bayou accents and were hard to understand. Sally suggested, facetiously, that he needed a translator. Vince gave her a big kiss on the cheek. Sally blushed as she scrubbed the lipgloss off her face. Surely, Howard had been in love. If it weren't for the skin tight pants making it clear Vince was in fact a man, she might have fallen in love herself.

xxx

Howard had no sense of time. Sometimes he was awake and sometimes he was dreaming and it was difficult to tell the two states apart. One minute, he was teaching a fifteen-year-old Vince the ins and outs of seed distribution, the next he was having Bailey's forced down his throat.

Surely, life was not so unkind as to make the force-fed Bailey's from a merman be the reality. Howard spat out the taste of beige and rolled onto his back. Old Gregg was looking down on him with concern. Old Gregg was always there when he opened his eyes, ever the attentive nursemaid. Howard appreciated the cool cloths on his forehead and neck and the constant changing of his linens as he went from freezing cold to sweating profusely at random intervals. He even appreciated the cool but brackish water that started him vomiting all over again.

He was less appreciative of waking up to find himself being, for lack of a better word, snuggled by the merman. He did not especially appreciate the nude watercolors of Howard that seemed to multiply every time he opened his eyes. He did not appreciate the constant feeling that he'd been tampered with while unconscious and he did not appreciate the fucking Bailey's being poured down his throat.

"I need water," his voice was barely a whisper.

"The water made Howard sick," Old Gregg explained, offering more Bailey's.

"Fresh water. I'm dehydrated," Howard explained, weakly trying to push his sweaty hair from his forehead.

He didn't hear Gregg's response.

_He sat on the sofa in the living room, waiting to ring in the New Year alone, in front of the telly. He had a moderately priced bottle and two champagne flutes, just in case Vince decided to come home early. It was a long shot but sometimes holidays made Vince cling to Howard - his surrogate family._

_Vince did come home before midnight, saying some nonsense about wanting to spend more time with Howard, as though they didn't spend nearly every waking moment together as they had done for the past fifteen years. They clinked glasses at midnight and just as Howard prepared to ask Vince if he had any resolutions such as, "Have bigger hair, do less work in the shop, be more annoying to Howard," the joke died on his lips - smothered by Vince's mouth. Howard dropped his half full champagne glass but otherwise remained motionless as Vince kissed him. The kiss was gentle, romantic and utterly unexpected. When Vince stood up and moved to the stairs, Howard felt a coolness on his forehead._

This is a dream.

In reality, Vince had gone upstairs and they hadn't discussed the kiss again. _Howard called for Vince to wait._

_Vince looked surprised, "That's not what happened. You just let me walk up the stairs. You didn't even look back."_

_"Yeah, well this is a dream, innit? Why did you kiss me just then?"_

_"It was over two months ago," Vince reminded him, "It's nearly Mardi Gras. You're going to miss it if I can't find you."_

_"I'm with Old Gregg... somewhere."_

_"I know that, you berk! But where? A swamp? The middle of the Mississippi?"_

_"I think it's in the Mississippi, I mentioned it once and Old Gregg didn't argue..."_

_"Do you know how big the bloody Mississippi River is!" Vince exclaimed, "It could take me years to find you!"_

_"I don't think I have years," Howard said, trying to keep his dream voice calm._

_Vince flew down the stairs and threw his arms around Howard, "I need time Howard. Hang on. For me."_

Howard could feel Old Gregg's tutu on the back of his thighs. He'd be awake soon.

_"I'll try, Vince."_

_"I love you, Howard. I thought it would work if I took things slow. I'm sorry."_

_"Hurry, Vince!"_

Vince's name echoed through the cave and Old Gregg did not look pleased. Howard closed his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupiscence

Warnings: non-con, underage sexuality, violence, drug references, language

Pairings: Howard/Vince, Howard/Old Gregg

Summary: Gregg has a lot to learn about courting and Vince continues to try and save Howard

Author's Note: Darker and darker but also a little silly because it is the Boosh. Feedback is appreciated, especially since I have a near panic attack before posting each chapter.

Howard wakes with a start, flinging away the hand that is stroking him through his bedclothes.

"Chill out, Howard, it's just me," Vince whispers, snuggled up behind Howard on the bed, his hand settling on Howard's hip and slowly moving back towards his erection, "Just relax."

Howard is in his childhood room, his self-created sanctuary from the madness of his family, where he lived until he left university to work at the Zooniverse. He tries to still Vince's hand but his long time friend is persistent.

"What's going on, Vince? Why are we here?"

"Shhh, Howard, don't talk or he'll hear," Vince whispers before placing a kiss on Howard's shoulder.

As Vince's hand slides beneath the waist of Howard's pajama pants, he wonders how Vince's hands got so rough when he did no work and moisturized three times a day.

"Don't ask questions, Howard, just relax," Vince continues in a low and husky voice, "I've got you."

When he tries to speak again, Vince covers Howard's mouth with his own, his black hair draping around Howard's face. It isn't until Howard tries to roll onto his back to be better able to kiss Vince back that he feels pain in his neck.

"What's going on..."

Vince stifles him with a deep kiss before answering, "Howard, you can't say my name. I'll leave if you try to say my name again."

Vince's hand is moving faster on Howard's cock and Howard doesn't have the energy or concentration to argue, "Why are we here?"

Vince shrugs and giggles, "I dunno. Cause I tried to give you a handy here once before and you wouldn't let me? Does it matter?"

Howard strokes Vince's golden hair, "Don't bring that up at a time like... wasn't your hair black a minute ago?"

Vince shakes his hair and it turns black again, "Genius, right? Now just relax."

Howard winces as Vince's grip tightens, "Too rough... please."

Vince loosens his grip slightly and Howard feels his orgasm building, "I'm almost there, V-"

"No!" Vince barks, "Do not say my name!"

Howard remains quiet as his body begins to tense in preparation for the release that is seconds away.

_Rough hands grip him around the throat, slamming his head against a wall of the cave. "The pretty lady man is gone."_

"Stay with me, Howard. It's better if you stay with me," Vince whispers as he continues to stroke Howard's cock with his surprisingly rough and scaly hand.

_Scaly hands with sharp nails cutting of his airflow until the world goes black._

"Look into my eyes, Howard," Vince instructs as he speeds his pace, "Just look at me, loving you, like always."

Howard looked into Vince's clear blue eyes and came. Then his mind cleared.

xxx

Howard's eyes popped open and he saw Old Gregg staring at his green, scaly and now semen covered hand. The merman hesitantly licked at his fingers, wrinkled his nose and astutely observed, "Salty."

"Greggory..." Howard tried to think of something to say that wouldn't result in another near strangling, "We talked about this."

"Talked about what, Howard?" Old Gregg asked, still investigating his hand.

"About not... touching me when I'm asleep. It's not... what people are meant to do," Howard felt irritation mixing with his fear, "When two people..."

"Make love times?" Gregg offered, helpfully.

"Sure, love times. They're both meant to be willing, Greggory. And awake."

Gregg looked baffled, "But Howard is always asleep."

"I'm sick. I need clean water and human food," Howard snapped, not bothering to hide his annoyance, "You're killing me and you're going to have to find another man to forcibly marry."

Howard gagged down a little more Bailey's from the bottle at his side and slipped back into the not-quite-sleep-state between his real life and some god-awful cave in the middle of nowhere.

xxx

"Well, the first time I made a move on Howard, I was a bit too young and it creeped him out," Vince explained as he pulled a lo mein noodle from his plate, "This is how a turtle eats."

Vince did a surprisingly accurate imitation of a turtle eating vegetable lo mein. The were sitting in Vince's hotel room, waiting for a call back from Bryan Ferry.

"How old were you?" Sally asked as she dug into her sweet and sour shrimp.

"Firteen."

"Fourteen?"

"_Fir_teen!"

"Thirteen?"

"Yeah, firteen."

Sally nearly choked on her shrimp, "Thirteen? Yeah, that's a bit young."

"It was a bit of a misunderstanding, really. When my dad had his first heart attack, I was in class and Mum rang Howard to see if he could pick me up and take care of me 'till she was sure everything was okay and all but he was at university and his mum answered."

"The one who dosed Howard with acid?" Sally asked, amazed by how Vince's crazy stories had begun to feel real. She had always considered herself to be smart and yet, here she was (without her gun).

"Yeah, this was before that happened or Mum probably wouldn't have dropped me off with Howard's parents. She figured they were like him, all responsible and serious," Vince explained between noodles, "His folks were pretty amazing! His dad was pretty out of it but his mum was feeding me biscuits in individual packets and tellin' me stories from the sixties but she was editing them to be more appropriate, takin' out the sex and drugs, so she told me she 'dated' three of the original Stones and 'had tea' with Keith Moon."

Sally laughed, "She sounds awesome!"

"She was well cool! Then Howard came home and whooooaaa, he goes mental! 'What's he doin' here? What are you feeding him? Vince, spit that out right now!' Me and his mum was cowerin' in fear and he's yellin' at us and his mum's sayin' how she didn't give me nothing that weren't individually wrapped and checked that the seal on my soda wasn't tampered with. It was mental! Eventually, I just had to tell him to stop yellin' cause my dad was sick and he had to be nice to me."

Sally felt guilty she'd forgotten that part. Vince had a way of glossing over the darker parts of his stories.

"So I tell him what happened and he apologized to his mum. It was really sad the way he did it. I don't know why..." Vince turned serious for a moment.

"Maybe because he had good reason not to trust her, maybe it was too late for him to ever really trust her no matter how hard she tried," Sally offered, thinking of her own mother.

Vince chewed his lip, "Yeah, so Howard takes me up to his room and he orders out for food and only lets me drink from sealed containers and won't let me out of his sight. He makes me do all my homework plus some extra studying before I can watch telly or listen to music. He's bein' all harsh and strict but he also keeps touching' my hair and shoulder. He didn't usually touch me but I guess he was bein' comfortin' an' it started gettin' a little weird for me."

"Did you feel like he was making advances?" Sally asked, suddenly worried about the direction this story was taking and that it might make her less eager to save Howard from the clutches of a merman.

"No! Nuttin' like that. I was thirteen but I looked well young. People were always giving me coloring books in restaurants, it was embarrassin'! But I do like to color so it wasn't that bad... What was I talkin' 'bout?"

"Howard was touching you."

"Oh, yeah. I was firteen but I looked little and my voice hadn't changed yet but I was goin' through puberty an' all an' I had a pretty big crush on Howard so bein' in his bedroom and him touching me... It was puttin' thoughts in my head and when you're firteen, a thought in your head quickly becomes an unsightly bulge in your trousers but he wouldn't let me go to the bathroom unless he was standing outside and he kept hurrying me up."

"Why? Did his parents hide drugs in there?"

"Maybe but mainly, he was worried about all the porn. There was porn everywhere! I was findin' it without even tryin'! I tried to smuggle a few out in me jumper but Howard nailed me straight away and confiscated them. Told me they would warp my mind," Vince explained with a laugh.

"Why was he so uptight? He must have been used to it," Sally asked.

"He'd been findin' porn since he was a little kid but I guess some of it was pretty dark and it... bothered him. He'd never talk about it in specifics just that it wasn't something you'd want to accidentally see."

"So that's why he's still a little uptight?"

"A little? He's in his thirties and still a virgin... as far as he knows," Vince studied his take-away and flushed, "I mean, he don't know about the yeti if anything even happened and who knows what's happenin' to him now because I can't find him..."

Sally jumped up from the bed she was sitting on and wrapped an arm around Vince, "You're doing everything you can, Vince."

Vince blinked rapidly and continued in a whisper, "He made me sleep against the wall so I couldn't get up in the middle of the night without him knowing and I couldn't sleep because I was worried about my dad and was feeling pretty confused and keyed up with all the touching and the vintage porn and not being able to have a wank and Howard was right there... So was curled up, facing the wall and trying to think about boring things to go to sleep and then Howard wraps his arm around me and he's pressed right up against me from behind... I remember thinking, 'This is it, I'm going to lose my virginity. This is how sex starts.' I ain't even open mouth kissed someone at that point and I'm thinkin' I'm about to get a bummin' an' I'm a little scared but Howard kind of moans and rubs against me an' there's no way I'm backin' out. I'm the shortest boy in my class and I think I'm going to be a virgin forever..."

"At thirteen?" Sally teased, stroking Vince's hair.

"You got no sense of perspective at firteen. So I figure I'll just lie there and he'll take care of things cause I have no clue what actually happens between two guys. Then he rolls over and when I look to see what he's doing, he's just lyin' there with his back to me. I thought maybe he was mad cause I didn't do anything, I just laid there and maybe he thought I wasn't interested," Vince looked incredibly vulnerable as he spoke, Sally can't keep from stroking his hair and trying to comfort him, "So I kind of reached around and, you know, felt around and he's just ignoring me and I'm getting a little panicky because I don't know what he wants. Then he grabs me by the wrist and throws me off him. He's sitting up and yelling, 'Don't touch me!' and looking all crazy like Tom Cruise in that movie where he's got a wheelchair. He's lookin' all around for who was sneakin' in his room and grabbin' his John Thomas while he's sleepin' and it finally occurs to him that the dangerous pervert is me."

The phone rang and Vince eagerly answered, leaving Sally hanging.

"Bryan! It's Vince. I need your help."


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: R

Warnings: strong suggestions of non-con, some violence

Summary: Vince continues his story. The Hitcher returns.

Pairings: Howard/Vince, Howard/Old Gregg

Author's note: It's been a crazy week but I needed to post something. I needed to write something that isn't (hopefully) boring! Thanks for your patience to anyone still reading. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

"Yeah, I know who he is... I've seen him on telly... Room 213?... Five o'clock sharp. Thanks Bryan, you're a life saver."

Vince was beaming as he hung up.

"Bryan found a translator for you?" Sally asked, more than a little incredulous. Apparently Bryan Ferry was just one of many singers who spoke to animals. The craziest part was, she had every intention of going to meet this singing Dr. Doolittle. She couldn't imagine letting Vince wander the city alone in his lovesick haze of innocence and possible mental illness.

"Thank you, Sally, for staying with me," Vince said sweetly, "I'm not used to bein' alone. It's been me'n'Howard for so long."

"So you were fondling your tutor in his sleep..." Sally started, her tone teasing.

"Yeah. He was more than a tutor by then. My mum would have him over for Sunday dinner. He'd wear a tie and everything. If I wanted to go to a big concert, Mum would buy Howard a ticket so he could watch over me. He was way stricter than my parents! He was so uptight and bossy but I loved him..." Vince blushed and looked away, "I always wanted to make him smile. There's still nothing better than making him laugh because his whole face changes and he always looks surprised that he's laughing..."

Sally grabbed his hand as Vince's voice trailed off, "We'll find him, Sweetie. We will."

Vince's smile didn't quite meet his eyes, "Course we will. I always save Howard and he saves me. Even then... He asked me if I was okay and I told him I was sorry, I just got confused. I remember he told me it weren't me, it were the house and I shouldn't be bothered. Then he put Ziggy Stardust on to help me sleep. He was real sweet about it. I fell asleep right away after that. I felt safe, you know? I was happy to be in my little corner of Howard's room."

Sally sighed. She was going to get diabetes from Vince's sweetness, "Did you ever talk about it?"

Vince looked thoughtful, "A little bit, later on. The next day, he drove me to hospital to be with my mum and dad. Dad was doing good but it was scary to see him like that, all sick. When Mum took me home that night, I told her everything."

"No you didn't! I'm sorry, continue."

"It just started coming out of me, it wasn't till she started asking questions that I realized it might not make Howard look good. Then I started crying because if they fired Howard as my tutor, I'd never see him again. He wouldn't want to hang out with a little kid."

"How did your mom react?" Sally asked, fully engrossed though she had a pretty good idea how the story ended (with Howard being abducted by a merman).

"She was great. She just pulled over and hugged me and said it were all right to have those feelings about Howard but I was too young to be acting on them. She said Howard could get into trouble because I was underage and that really worried me cause Howard never did anything against the rules. He had to miss a class to take me to the hospital and he never missed a class before. I told him I'd sit outside on a bench and not cause trouble so he could go to his class and...," Vince blushed again, "And he hugged me and said that me'n'my family was more important than a class."

Sally sighed for the lovestruck 13-year-old who was now a lovestruck adult.

"My dad took a turn for the worse that night and Mum called Howard's house again and got his mum who said all kinds of nice things about me and that I was welcome any time but, of course, Howard got on the line and ended that right quick. No more visits to his house! Mum shooed me out the room so she could talk to Howard in private so I hid in a cupboard and eavesdropped. She starts tellin' Howard how I told her what happened last night and I guess he was well upset cause me mum must have spent twenty minutes trying to calm him down," Vince leaned in and whispered the next part, "I think he was _crying_! She weren't saying much just, "I know you didn't," and, "I never thought that," and stuff like that so you can imagine what kind of horrible things... I felt bad bout upsettin' him so much but Mum was great. She asked him to come over and stay in the guest room so she could go to hospital with Dad. Then she yelled at me to get out the cupboard and quit eavesdropping cause it was well rude."

Sally laughed, "So things were okay with Howard?"

"Yeah, he came over and made me pancakes for dinner and let me put candy in them. Normally he made me eat vegetables and disgusting things like that. He still made me study and go to bed on time but you could tell he was tryin' to be extra nice... but he hardly looked me in the eye the whole time. He came over a lot while Dad was sick. By the time he came home, Howard had cleaned the whole house - Mom and Dad joked that he should move in and I thought that would be amazin' but... It were maybe two weeks later he dropped out of uni and went to work at the Zooniverse."

Having never met the man, Sally was shocked straight-laced Howard would drop out of school. She felt like she knew him, "What happened?"

"Not sure but... I think having me there and what happened... he needed to get out of that house. He was well happy at the zoo and talked about his boss, Tommy, all the time. He was Howard's hero. He sounded like a nutter but Howard talked about Tommy the way I talked about Howard - all lovey and hero-worshippin'. I hated Tommy straight away but I couldn't say nothin' bad bout him or Howard would have a fit. Well, we better get going, we can't keep Weezy waitin'," Vince announced, jumping off the bed.

"Who is Weezy?" Sally asked, as she puffed her hair where it had flattened from lying down for 'Vince Noir's Story Hour'.

"Don't you watch telly? He's got viddies'n'all," Vince explained as he primped his modified Mardi Gras mullet.

Sally rolled her eyes and decided they were definitely making a stop to pick up her gun. The merman business was stretching the imagination but this was ridiculous.

And if it was true... Vince was going to need a native of New Orleans to translate.

_Parsley watched Vince free himself of the dark clothing of his new gothic style and adorn himself in a flowing white robe. For a moment, he was able to take in the stunning view of Vince's nude body before the robe covered him and a yeti tied his newly dark hair into bunches, adding a feather to complete the earthy look. _

_He was beautiful. Parsley couldn't imagine not holding the younger man, kissing him and smelling his hair. Vince smiled and sighed as Parsley kissed his eyes and nose. Under all the pretense, Vince was still the pure and beautiful boy he'd been when they met. Out here, far from the dangers of the city and Howard's parents, they could truly be together. Parsley gathered Vince in his arms and swung him in a circle as the smaller man explained he wanted to be called Bunches from now on and something about a folk duo. _

_It didn't matter where the bed came from, perhaps it appeared out of thin air because it was meant to exist. Things like that happened when you truly surrendered to nature._

_Bunches smiled and laughed as Howard tossed him on the bed. He was, as always, the very picture of innocence. Eden personified and wearing too much eye make-up._

_Howard was confused by the small pot of salve handed to him by a yeti but Bunches pulled Parsley down on top of him, positioning their bodies until Parsley understood. Gone was the shame, fear and anxiety the old Howard experienced at the thought of physical intimacy. Bunches clung to his neck, giggling between kisses as he was stretched and prepared - impervious to fear as ever, and full of trust and love._

_Parsley had fuzzy memories of years of trying and failing to express his love as it grew from a brotherly affection to something much more complicated. How absurd it seemed now that this Howard person thought he could sully the beauty beneath him. Bunches was a diamond: beautiful and nearly indestructible. The world could fall apart, as it often did, and Bunches would remain._

_Even the watchful eyes of the yetis could not make Parsley feel ashamed as he made love to Bunches; hopelessly romantic words tumbling, unfiltered, from his mouth and Bunches simply whispered (again and again), "I love you so much"._

The world disappeared inside Howard's stomach, along with a sharp toed boot.

"Wake up, ya slag. Drink some water 'fore you go and die on my boy. I ain't findin' 'im another freak to marry. I got me own life," snapped the Hitcher.

Howard tried to cling to the long buried memories but they were fading and retreating back to the deepest recesses of his brain - to the synapses that still retained multiplication tables up to 15 and the rules for meeting the Queen. Happy memories were less than useless in this cave.

Howard greedily drank the water offered by the Hitcher who laughed, "Drink up, boy. You're gonna need your strength. My boy is quite vigorous!"

Howard saw Old Gregg peering nervously over the Hitcher's shoulder, "Old Gregg doesn't want Howard to die."

The Hitcher gave Howard another kick in the stomach, causing him to roll over in pain and gag on the water he'd been gulping down. The Hitcher used a series of well-placed kicks that left Howard on his stomach with his legs spread.

"There ya go, my boy. Let's get this marriage consummated so I can go 'bout my business."

"Can I have more water first?" Howard asked, eyeing the pack of water bottles behind the blue-eyed monsters, "I'm still quite..."

A kick in the kidneys shut Howard up for the moment.

"I see this one still don't know 'is place," the Hitcher sneered, "You've been too soft on 'im."

"Howard is sick. Old Gregg needs to make him better before we get married. Howard says that when we make love times, Old Gregg and Howard have to both be willing and awake."

The Hitcher grabbed Howard by the hair and pulled him to his knees, laughing, "Is that what you've been tellin' my boy? Fillin' 'is 'ead with 'ippy nonsense like consent? Old Gregg, it's time your old man taught you the truth about the birds and bees."

Howard tried to remember his dream about being happy but it was gone without a trace.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince, Howard/Hitcher, Howard/Old Gregg

Rating: R

Warning: Non-con, violence, angst, discussion of under age sexuality

Summary: Howard needs a new way to deal with the Hitcher, Sally is learning to keep Vince on track.

Disclaimer: All the characters other than Sally were created by the Mighty Boosh and I can't claim to own even Sally. She's her own girl.

Author's note: Hope you all had a wonderful V-day and are ready for some misery!

Howard closed his eyes.

He could hear the Hitcher undo his zipper.

He thought of Vince, his Vince.

"All right, Howard?" Vince's voice was as cheeky as ever as he wrapped his thin arm around Howard's neck.

"You're choking me," Howard whispered.

The Hitcher's laugh cut through Howard's haze.

_Vince's_ arm around his neck, holding him up. Spitting on his hand. Preparing him. Vince's fingers painfully digging inside of him.

"That's right, Howard," Vince's voice sounded a little harsher than usual, "I'm gonna give ya a nice bummin'."

Howard tried to relax his muscles, he just had to get through this.

"Am I hurtin' ya, Howard?" Vince asked, trying to push his cock into Howard, oblivious to Howard's lack of readiness.

"It hurts, please stop," Howard whispered. He could hear harsh laughter in the distance.

"Why?" Vince asked sweetly, "This is what you've wanted to do to me since I was a kid."

"That's not true."

"You had me in your bed when you were twice my size! You made me think I had to do something for you in exchange for being nice to me."

"That's not what happened," he tried shaking his head but he could hardly move, "That's all wrong."

"What's wrong, Howard? You don't want me here?" Vince asked, "You'd rather get bummed by the Hitcher than me?"

Howard let out a whimper of pain.

"How 'bout Tommy? Your old hero Tommy could be here, fucking you. That's all he wanted, an occasional bummin' in exchange for teaching you everything you know. But no, he had to hump your leg like a dog and be grateful for it. Why couldn't you just pretend? Why do you always have to be so selfish?"

"You don't know about Tommy. I never told you any of that. I never told anyone."

Howard opened his eyes. There was no comfort to be found in the recesses of his brain, he was better off in the cave.

Twice he had been taken away from his parents' home and placed with Nan Moon. He knew how to make allies with a crazy person.

"Old Gregg!" It was closer to a whisper than a shout but Gregg responded.

"Yes, Howard?"

"Don't let him do this."

The Hitcher tightened his grip around Howard's throat. Howard went limp and when the Hitcher loosened his grip for a moment, he whimpered, "It should be you, Greg. Not him, just. .." Stars filled his eyes as his head slammed against the cave wall.

"What does Howard mean?"

"'e's tryin' to turn ya against yer old man, Old Gregg," The Hitcher growled as he made another attempt to enter Howard, "Oi. He's tighter than yer ole mum's airhole."

"I should only be with you, Greggory, I'm yours. Right?"

"That's right," Old Gregg said, realization dawning on his face, "Howard belongs to Old Gregg. Let go of my fuzzy man love."

Howard felt a hint of hope, "Save me, Greggory."

"Oh, you crazy bastard! I'm bleeding like a stuck pig."

"Old Gregg will stitch Father up but Father can't touch Howard. Howard is for Old Gregg."

xxxx

Howard's head was in Old Gregg's tutu covered lap, and he was being fed biscuits. He was going to survive a little while longer.

He looked at the Hitcher, lying on a mattress and clutching his stomach wound.

Vince needed to find him soon.

_If he's even looking for you. _

"Course, I'm lookin' for ya, Howard," Vince murmured into his ear as he stroked Howard's chest.

Howard tensed and whispered, "Vince?"

"Yeah, it's Vince! You forgotten me already? We been friends since we was little."

"Since you were little," Howard corrected, "I was already a man."

"I like it better when we're the same age," Vince purred as he pinched Howard's nipple. Howard could feel the hardness against his cheek and winced.

Vince's hand moved to Howard's hair, "He'll leave you alone for a little while. He loves you. He'll kill you in a heartbeat but he loves you. Eat and get strong. You have to survive. I need time."

"I never wanted to hurt you, Vince," Howard whispered, afraid of missing his chance. Afraid he was running out of time, "and if I did... I'm so sorry. I tried my best to look out for you."

"All that stuff is in your head, Howard. You never done anything to me but be my friend," Vince whispered as his hand slid down over Howard's hardening cock, "Now you need to tell him you're too tired and you want to wait."

"I'm too tired," Howard's voice was still raspy from the near strangling, "Please, give me more time. To convalesce."

Vince's hand returned to his hair.

xxx

Howard was in his Zooniverse jacket, still sporting the stupid mustache that his precious Tommy told him to grow in order to look older. He looked normal except his eyelashes were wet. Howard, standing outside his classroom alongside the headmistress, with wet eyelashes.

Vince turned on his heel and ran. He was slipping in his Chelsea boots and Howard caught him straight away, holding him and saying everything was going to be all right.

xxx

Sally's gun was taken away by Weezy's men as soon as they arrived. Then the were left in the lobby for an hour.

She waved her hand in front of Vince's blank, blue eyes, "Yoo-hoo. Vince. Where'd you go?"

Vince jumped, "Sorry. I was... What did you ask?"

"I asked why you know Bryan Ferry."

"He was a mate of my dad's. We used to go see him all the time. He was supposed to be my guardian if anything happened to my parents..."

"Did something happen to your parents?" Sally asked, gently. Not daring to muss his now styled hair, she stroked his hand.

"Dad had another heart attack when I was fifteen. He was driving at the time. They both died."

Vince let himself be pulled into Sally's arms.

"It was Howard that told me. He let me stay at his flat 'cause I couldn't handle going home that night. That's when I made my second move," Vince suddenly giggled, "Oh, you must think I was a freak!"

Sally refused to be distracted by Vince's charm, "You must have been so upset and scared..."

"I was crying in my room and he come in and sat on my bed, strokin' my hair and bangin' on about philosophy and all the crap he was learnin' from Tommy before Tommy went missin'."

Sally let it go, she would not be distracted, "Did you try to kiss him?"

Vince laughed again, "No, I went right for the meat and two veg, just like the last time. I didn't have the nerve to look at him. Oh, I was a shambles! I just wanted to feel good. I know it sounds horrible..."

"It doesn't, Sweetie," Sally assured him, "I take it Howard didn't take advantage of the situation?"

Vince's laugh was a little drier this time, "None of that for Howard. He just took my hand and held it. I remember he went all red but he didn't run away. I know he wanted to."

"He cared about you, a lot."

Vince tensed in her arms, "He did and I did everything I could to make him hate me."

Sally could have screamed when Weezy chose_ that_ moment to let them into his room.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince, Howard/Old Gregg

Rating: R

Warnings: references to under age sex, drug use, dub-con, language

Summary: Vince and Sally work their way through Bryan Ferry's grapevine; Howard is feeling better.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh characters (they belong to the Boosh) and I own no celebrities and everything they do in this story is made up and really fucking unlikely.

Vince soon realized Sally had been right about him needing a translator. Sally's non-regional, TV ready accent must have come with her doctorate in environmental science. When she spoke to Lil' Wayne, her accent was as thick as his. He couldn't understand either of them. It was clear Sally was a fan, her normally placid expression was gone and she was giggling like a school girl.

"I'm sorry, Vince," she said, as though sensing his thoughts, "I was just telling him how I've loved him since the Hot Boy$. I used to sneak out to see them at the Bounce clubs..."

"Bounce?" Vince asked.

Sally laughed and demonstrated by doing a dance that made her ample bottom vibrate at an alarming rate.

Vince tried to imitate her causing Sally to burst into a fit of hysterical laughter but Vince thought he saw a little respect in Lil' Wayne's eyes.

"He says you've got a lot of ass for a white girl," Sally explained before turning back to Weezy and explaining Vince was a man. Vince didn't understand the words but the accompanying hand gesture was hard to misread.

Vince smiled at the confused looking rapper and urged Sally to get to the point. He only understood a few words of what she said but he heard "funky merman" and saw the way Lil' Wayne cringed at the words. He got the distinct impression, Weezy wasn't going to help them find Howard.

"He says he doesn't want anything to do with that funky merman voodoo but he knows who can help us," Sally explained after a brief conversation, "We need to talk to Old Gregg's old boyfriend, Slash."

xxx

"You don't know me but my name is Dr. Sally Blanc and I need to track down a merman named Old Gregg. I know you've had troubles with him in the past and Bryan Ferry and Lil' Wayne..." Vince could see Sally was losing her confidence, Vince gave her free hand a squeeze, "They said you could help. We need your help. Please, our friend has been missing for a few days now and... I don't need to tell you how worried we are. Please. Please help us."

Vince's eyes welled up a little at Sally's plea for someone she'd never met. He'd seen a sweetness in her even as she'd threatened him with pepper spray the first time he approached her. Vince didn't have a head for math or science or poetry but he could spot a well-hidden, kind heart from a mile away.

Sally closed her phone and shrugged, "I guess we just have to wait."

Vince gave her a quick hug before they started walking back to his hotel.

Sally roughly wiped a tear from her eye, "So tell me more. You said you tried to make Howard hate you."

Vince felt his cheeks darkening at the mention of "the five months". That's what they called it on the rare occasions Vince and Howard talked about that time. "The five months" between the death of Vince's parents and his sixteenth birthday.

"I was fifteen and a half, so I only needed a guardian 'til I turned sixteen..."

"You were on your own at sixteen?" Sally asked with surprise, "I was still doing laundry at my mom's house when I got my Ph.D."

"I wasn't ever really on my own but at sixteen I didn't need a guardian," Vince explained, feeling a bit queasy, "So Bryan and Howard worked it out that Howard would just move into my house and keep an eye on me and make sure I passed my exams and Bryan would take care of the money and legal stuff."

Sally nodded, clearly seeing how it was a good plan and young Vince should have been grateful to have people looking out for him.

"I went mental. I stopped going to school, started staying out all night. Drinking, sleeping around... I got a venereal disease and everything..." Vince laughed out of habit, "I wouldn't even take the anti-biotics when I was supposed to, I fought Howard on every little thing. I brought people to the house once but he walked in and said, 'This is a fifteen-year-old child whose parents just died. Anyone with a scrap of humanity left should leave now. As for the rest of you, I'm calling the police,' and that cleared the room."

Vince tried to laugh it off but Sally was looking at him with her big, understanding eyes.

"He got me a part time job at the zoo and even though I loved it... I still wouldn't show up half the time. He'd end up having to cover for me. He'd come out to the clubs and find me, literally dragging me home. He was only twenty at the time but everyone thought he was me dad cause he was..." Vince blinked back tears. Howard had been an adult since he was in short pants, he never really had a childhood.

"It's all right, Vince. Lots of kids act out. I was such a punk-ass at that age, I don't know why my parents didn't just feed me to the alligators," Sally's voice was so full of kindness, Vince wanted to wear it like a cape.

"I came home all pissed one day and..." Vince cringed at the memory.

"You made another move on him?" Sally offered.

_"C'mon, Howard. I know you wanna fuck me. Everyone wants to fuck me."_

"By then, he was just disgusted with me. It was horrible but I couldn't stop. I'd think that the next day I'd wake up and go back to being normal but..."

"You were testing Howard, seeing if he really cared."

Vince grabbed his head, trying to push the memories back, "He kept trying to talk to me about what I was going to do with my life and I kept thinkin' how I was gonna be so alone when he was gone... The morning I turned sixteen, he baked me a cake and..."

Vince started crying. He could see the little cake with it's blue and white frosting. A cake that Howard made even though he hated cakes.

"I went out and spent all the money Bryan sent me for my birthday on drugs - I just wanted to come home with my pockets stuffed full of drugs so that when he searched me..."

Sally's face was filled with dread and she whispered, "Oh, no."

"I just wanted him to hate me and sure enough, as soon as I come home, he's rootin' through my pockets and... he went all pale and I was laughin' and sayin' we should use it to bake up another cake since I threw the one he made in the garbage an' it would be like old times for him..."

Sally was physically holding her mouth shut at that point.

"And he opened a bag of X and dumped it in his mouth."

Sally gasped, "I'm so sorry, Vince, please continue."

"I was well scared. I tried pulling them out of his mouth and he started choking... I got most of them back but he was pretty messed up. I did my best to take care of him, makin' him drink water and playing the kind of music he liked. At one point, we was on the sofa an' he was lookin' at me and tellin' me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me and I knew I could... I knew he wouldn't say no if I tried it on."

Sally waited patiently for him to continue, simply holding his hand as they walked. 

"I really fancied him, I always did. I thought about him when I was getting off with other people."

"You've been in love with him for so long."

Vince turned, buried his face in Sally's shoulder and wept in the middle of Bourbon Street where no one paid them any mind.

xxx

"Howard never gave up on you and we're never going to give up on him," Sally murmured into Vince's ear.

Sally knew that if they didn't find Howard, she was going to have to pack up and move to England. She'd go work in a boutique and forget everything she knew about chemistry because there was no way she could ever leave Vince alone.

xxx

Howard opened his eyes and was greeted by a watercolor of himself getting raped by the Hitcher. He debated between laughing and crying and decided he was to tired for either.

"G'mornin', sleepin' beauty," drawled the Hitcher, "Are ya feelin' convalesced yet?"

Howard pulled his blanket up to his chin and looked for clothing. There was little point in being modest when he was surrounded by nude paintings of himself but he still didn't care for the feeling of being naked. The Hitcher was nursing a sizeable gut wound but he didn't seem like the type who learned lessons from such experiences.

"Where's Old Gregg?" Howard asked, hating the timidity in his voice.

The Hitcher grinned, "Don't you worry, your husband ain't gone far. I'll bet you're lookin' forward to the weddin' night. I know I am."

Howard closed his eyes and thought of Vince. Vince giggling as Bollo groomed his ridiculous hair, Vince gasping for breath after his first porpoise race, Vince spending hours personalizing his zoo uniform...

"You ever had kids, Moon?" the Hitcher asked, in an almost conversational tone.

Howard thought of "the five months", his big opportunity to prove he was nothing like his own parents. His chance to step up and do something important and a small chance to repay the kindness of the Noir family. The five months in which he turned the sweetest kid he'd ever met into an unrecognizable monster.

"No. I don't think I'm suited for parenthood," Howard admitted. It felt good to say it out loud, even to a homicidal maniac.

"Children are right fuckin' bastards. You better pray Old Greggory can't get knocked up or you are in for a right treat."

Howard reached for a bottle of water and a packet of crisps. He was getting stronger. He had no idea how long he'd been in the cave. It could be days or months. He was getting more and more confused about what was a dream and what was reality. It seemed that reality involved him marrying a merman and having children.

That couldn't be right.

xxx

Howard tried to fall asleep with Old Gregg spooning him but for the first time since eating the rancid fish, he was wide awake.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to imagine Vince but the image wouldn't come. He thought of all the times Vince had reached out to him; inarticulately asking for love, comfort or friendship - and being turned away. Vince didn't belong in the cave, Howard did. His misanthropic life was coming to its logical conclusion.

"What would you say to me, if I was there?" Vince asked, improbably perched at the foot of Howard's mattress.

Howard couldn't meet his eyes.

"I don't know what to say, Vince. I don't know if you're real."

"Don't matter. I'm not sure 'bout all this either. It's well strange. I'd still like an answer. What would you say to me?"

"I'd say that I love you and I'm sorry for all the times I let you down," Howard answered, "And that if I don't make it..."

"Don't say that," Vince clutched the sides of his head.

"That you oughtn't feel bad and I want you to be happy and enjoy your life."

"I'm going to find you," Vince promised, "I got a sexy sidekick an' everything. I'm so close now."

Old Gregg's hand started moving down Howard's chest and below his waist.

"Help me, Vince," Howard whispered. Vince pressed a finger to his lips.

"I always will, Howard. We're a team, right? You 'n'me, forever."


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: R

Warning: dub-con, angst

Summary: Vince and Howard remember better and worse times.

Author's note: It's been a while!

Vince was on his third drink when Leroy asked the inevitable question.

"Any resolutions, Vince?"

"Yeah! I'm gonna be happy."

"Vince, you're always happy!"

"Happier, then."

"How?"

Vince thought about it and then he called a cab.

xxx

Howard was sitting on the sofa watching the telly with a glass of champagne.

"Vince! What are you doing back? It's not even midnight yet. Are you ill?"

Vince sat next Howard and didn't ask Howard why he already had a second champagne flute next to him.

"I just decided I wanted to be with you for the new year. Just you and me," Vince answered, honestly.

Howard leaned away and furrowed his brow, "I don't get it. Where's the joke?"

"I'm being serious, Howard. I want to spend more time with you this year."

"We share a bedroom, Vince. We spend nearly every minute of the day together," Howard pointed out, keeping his tiny eyes on the telly. The countdown would be starting soon.

Vince thought about it. Even sitting next to Howard now, he didn't feel like he was 'with' Howard. He grabbed the Northerner's big hand and held it. Howard shot him a befuddled look but he didn't pull away.

The held hands as they counted in the New Year and clinked glasses. They held hands as Vince leaned over and kissed Howard on the lips, the way he'd done on the rooftop. Howard's glass fell to the ground and champagne splashed on Vince's jumpsuit.

He considered just pushing Howard back on the couch and going down on him. He wanted to show Howard what he felt and didn't have words to express. It was the tickle of Howard's mustache in his nose that sparked a moment of clarity for Vince. Every time Vince made a move on Howard, he moved too fast. It was always Howard's first instinct to say no, to retreat in fear and assume everything that came at him was bad and dangerous. He needed time to adjust to something new.

On the roof, Howard had gone from love to apparent indifference in the space of a few moments. He'd been ready to lose his virginity to some stranger minutes after declaring his love for Vince. It was less than an hour between his declaration of love and his screams for help. Lucky for Howard, Tony Harrison had the anti-funk, Fleetwood Mac's _Tusk_, on hand and they were able to chase Old Gregg out of the house. Even the pauses made Old Gregg cringe in agony. An hour and a shared bottle of champagne later, they were kissing on the bouncy castle. Howard was being wonderfully complacent in Vince's arms until he tried to get inside the Northerner's pants. It was too fast and Howard pulled away. He pulled away that night and a week later he ran away to be an actor like he didn't know Vince was in love with him.

Maybe he didn't know. Maybe he didn't understand yet. Vince ended the kiss and went upstairs.

The next day at dinner, Vince gave Howard the crispiest chips from his fish and chips. Normally he stole Howard's but now he was wooing Howard, one crispy chip at a time, until the big freak understood how much he meant to Vince. He gave Howard the fluffiest pancakes, used extra fabric softener on his clothes and made a tiny Topshop for Stationery Village so it would attract cool people and increase tourism. Howard laughed and sometimes he blushed at Vince's courtship. When Howard won the tickets to Mardi Gras, Vince patiently listened as Howard gave him a boring lecture on the history of the city and the celebration. He listened so closely, he actually understood what Howard was saying. On Mardi Gras, Catholics like to live it up so they get it out of their systems for Lent. It sounded smart. That's what Vince would do, he'd either get Howard or get him out of his system.

So he made his plan, he'd make his move on Fat Tuesday and if Howard said no, he'd spend the next forty days getting over him.

It was Sunday, Vince only had two days to go.

xxx

Howard ran his fingers through Vince's raven black hair as they kissed, the bouncy castle tossing them about every time they shifted their weight. It was going to happen. Vince was kissing him and stroking him through his corduroys.

"This is where you ran away," Vince reminded him.

"I'm sorry, Vince," Howard whispered, "I can explain but not now..."

Vince opened Howard's trousers and pulled down his pants, taking Howard in his rough hand.

"You don't have to explain," Vince said, gently, "You never have to explain yourself to me but you can tell me if you want."

Howard felt tears welling, "Help me, Vince."

"Don't be such a baby," Vince chided with a cheeky grin, "I'm gonna take care of you. I wouldn't hurt you. I just need you to relax and let me get you ready."

Howard tensed as a knuckle was pressed inside.

"Hurts," Howard whispered.

"Say it out loud," Vince whispered, pressing his knuckle in deeper.

"Hurts, please. Hurts."

"There we go," Vince cooed as he coated Howard entrance with a thick cream, "It won't hurt now. Not if we take our time. Tell me if I go to fast."

Howard wrapped his arms around Vince, feeling his boney back beneath his hands. He buried his face in black hair.

"It's blond now," Vince corrected. The hair turned gold but it felt and smelled the same.

"But it's my birthday party," Howard pointed out, looking around at the bouncy castle, "You just saved me from..."

Howard gritted his teeth as Vince pushed inside.

"I saved you from him then," Vince murmured as he thrust himself a little deeper, his hair was back to black, "And I'll save you now."

If Vince was disappointed when Howard lost his erection, he didn't show it. He continued to stroke Howard all over his body and whisper kind words as he moved in and out.

"I just want to make you feel good, Howard," Vince whispered. His thrusts were changing from long and deep to quick and a little erratic. It was almost over. "I love you, Howard. Please don't be hurt."

When it was over, Vince held him tightly while Howard tried to stop shaking.

"S'all right, Howard. You did good, you're okay. You're going to be okay."

"I'm sorry, Vince."

"Don't be sorry."

"There's something wrong with me."

"It's this place, Howard. It's not you."

Howard flinched at the familiar phrasing. Vince was using his words against him.

"I'm so sorry, Vince. I'm sorry about my birthday."

"That was my fault," Vince whispered, "I moved too fast. It was my fault."

"No, Vince. It's me. I... Tommy tried but..."

"Not Tommy!" Vince wailed, "Not that berk."

"He wanted a... physical relationship and I tried..."

Vince kissed his shoulder, "Tommy were a freak, Howard. How was you supposed to get excited for that big head of his."

Howard smiled in spite of himself, Vince had always resented Tommy though they had never met. Howard thought of Tommy, pressed behind him with a hand over Howard's flaccid cock. Each encounter more painfully embarrassing than the last.

"I couldn't. Ever. I could never..." Howard grasped for words to explain just how badly he'd failed his old mentor, "I don't know if I can. I saw things when I was young and they made me go wrong. I can't explain it."

Vince snuggled into Howard's side, "You don't have to explain. It don't matter if we can't ever be together like that. I just need to be with you full stop. Don't matter to me if we never do more than snog. I'm just glad to be allowed touchin' you."

Howard held Vince tightly until one dream world faded into another and he was back in Primary School but a fully grown man and no one seemed to notice.

xxx

Vince woke with a start and woke Sally in the process.

Vince blinked back tears as Sally fretted over him, asking what was wrong.

"I had a dream," he explained, lamely, "I was dreaming about Howard."

Sally sighed and stroked Vince's hair in a motherly way, "We'll find him, sweetie."

"I dreamt..." Vince debated on whether or not to continue but Sally looked so reassuring and non-judgmental. She was wasting her time as a chemist, she should have a chat show.

"I dreamt that I was with Howard... That I was..." Vince used a hand gesture to explain what he couldn't quite say.

Sally smiled, "That's normal, Vince. You shouldn't be upset. We've been talking about your feelings for him..."

"I don't think... I don't think he wanted what I was doing," Vince admitted, feeling queasy, "He wasn't hard or nothin' and he was... Why would I dream about doin' that to him when he's with Old Gregg and..."

Vince bit his knuckle and tried not to cry.

Sally held him tightly and the tears started to fall.

"It's all right, Vince. It was just a dream. I know how much you love Howard. You had your chance to take advantage and you didn't, right? You don't have malicious bone in your body, Vince Noir."

Vince hadn't told Sally the half of it. He was fairly sure Howard didn't remember the things he had said to Vince while under the influence of enough ecstasy to fuel a small rave. The confessions had come tumbling out of the young man's mouth. He told Vince he was a virgin and afraid he always would be, that he'd never be capable of intimacy. He said Vince had been the only person who didn't make him uncomfortable until he'd gone and hit puberty and how much Howard missed sweet, little, non-threatening Vince.

He said Vince confused him and made him feel ashamed.

"I took care of him then. I worked his shift at the zoo the next day. I barely knew what I was doing but the animals walked me through it..." Vince gave Sally a moment to be dubious and then remember that Vince really did talk to animals, "and I felt good. I felt good cause I helped Howard and was responsible. Things were different after that. We sold the house and shared a flat. Brian kept sending money but Howard would never take any of it. It all went to sending me back to school and then to college."

Sally smiled, "So you have five months of teenage rebellion. That's not so bad."

Vince forced a smile but he would never forget the look on Howard's face when he downed the bag of ecstasy. Instead of being angry at Vince like any normal person, Howard had turned it all in on himself. The only way he'd known to get through to Vince was to hurt himself as much as possible. Vince had spent the following decade trying to make things up to Howard, trying to be the sweet, little Vince that didn't make Howard feel uncomfortable.

Vince snuggled into Sally the way he'd snuggled Howard in his dream and tried to think pleasant thoughts. Tomorrow morning, Slash's flight would arrive in the morning and they would surely find Howard. Vince would be extra good. No jokes about jazz or small eyes. No midnight barbering. He would just be sweet and nice and Howard would be fine. Whatever Howard was going through, Vince would make it better.


	12. Chapter 12

Slash looked exactly like Slash. He wore his stove pipe hat and skin tight pants. His hair was full and moved like a living entity. Vince wanted to build a nest from Slash's hair; a big, soft nest for him and Howard.

But first he had to find Howard.

Slash wasted no time bringing out a small yellow box.

"Are you looking for Old Gregg?" Slash asked as he fiddled with the yellow contraption.

"Yes," Vince explained, "He has my best mate, Howard. He wanted to marry Howard before but Howard was able to get away."

Between his hat, hair, sunglasses and stubble, there wasn't much "face" on Slash to read but Vince detected a flash of concern.

"How long has he been missing?" Slash asked without looking up from his device.

"Five days," Sally answered while Vince was still thinking. It seemed like Howard had been gone for months.

Vince could see Slash flinch behind his dark glasses. He was about to reach for Sally's hand but she was already twining her fingers into his. Apparently everyone knew five days with Old Gregg was "bad news". Vince felt queasy but he was certain Howard was waiting to be rescued. He couldn't possibly be de-

Vince refused to even think the word. Howard was waiting for him.

"I managed to get Gregg tagged at a Velvet Revolver gig. He managed to get back stage looking like Diva Zappa and we tagged him before... The closer you get, the more accurate the reading," Slash explained, "I'm telling you now, I'm only willing to get so close to Old Gregg and I'm not handing this bad boy over. I'll get you within a few miles and then you're on your own."

Vince joyfully threw his arms around Slash who shrank away, but not before Vince planted a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

"Thanks, Slash. This is genius!"

Slash grunted and tapped the screen of his tracking device. He tapped it again.

"This reading doesn't make sense," Slash mumbled to himself, "What the fuck is going on..."

Sally peered at the screen and her eyebrows raised as she mumbled to herself, "Holy shit."

"What's going on?" Vince asked as he looked at the black screen with a small, flashing yellow light.

"I'm not getting a reading on the location. It looks like a black hole," Slash explained.

"That's because that swamp doesn't exist," Sally explained, "It's a legendary swamp and you won't find it on any map and if you don't know where to look, you'll never find it at all. That's where Howlin' Jimmy Jefferson lived and died and became immortal."

Slash nearly dropped his Old Gregg tracking device, "Howlin' Jimmy Jefferson? The spirit of Jazz?"

"Ugh," Vince groaned, "Not that berk again! He is mental. I hope he ain't around cause he and Howard have some unresolved issues..."

Vince stopped when he realized Sally and Slash were staring at him.

"How are we supposed to find this swamp if it don't exist?" Vince asked, not wanting to discuss his run-ins with the Spirit of Jazz. He felt queasy at the memory of biting Howard's record. He's been acting up, like usual, trying to get Howard's attention because he resented all the time Howard was suddenly spending with Lester Corncrake. Even as Vince felt guilty remembering Howard's distraught face as his prized possession was destroyed, he also felt warmed by the memory of Howard coming to his rescue. Howard loved Vince more than jazz.

Vince loved Howard more than anything.

Sally said she knew how to find the non-existent swamp but she would need some help from a very old friend.

xxx

Sally was a woman of science, a rational person, but there was no way in hell she was heading into a voodoo swamp without leaving a gift for Marie Laveau first.

She wasn't crazy.

Sally took the charm bracelet from her arm and placed it in front of the crypt. Vince followed suit with his fuchsia scarf. Slash put down a flash drive with the latest Trombone Shorty cd.

"Marie Laveau, m'am," Sally began, awkwardly. She'd never done this with other people around before, "I know that you are the most powerful woman on the planet and if there is anyone who can help us, it's you. Please help us find Vince's friend, Howard Moon, before... before anything bad happens to him. Vince loves him a lot..."

"I can't live without him," Vince whispered.

Sally closed her eyes and tried to picture the Voodoo Priestess. She imagined her warm eyes, her elegant robes...

"That hat is genius!" Vince cried, "You look amazin' for someone whose been dead for a hundred years. What's your secret? I bet you moisturize."

Sally opened her eyes and saw Marie Laveau, in the apparent flesh.

xxx

Howard was wearing his own clothes. They smelled like soap and swamp water but at least he was covered. He was fully dressed but surrounded by nude portraits of himself. The most recent watercolor was apparently what Howard looked like from Old Gregg's perspective. It was obscene and worst of all, the perspective was horrible. Howard longed for one of Vince's strange and beautiful, childlike paintings. He preferred himself with a balloon for a head over a painting of himself being prepared for anal sex with a monster any day of the week.

Not that he had any idea of the day of the week.

The Hitcher looked up from his examination of a medical book he'd found among Old Gregg's strange and varied possessions. Howard wondered if he was reading up on anatomy or just getting off on the pictures.

"Well, ain't that a site for me sore ole eyes?" the Hitcher observed as he examined Gregg's newest 'artwork', "I guess you been properly consumated, ain't that right, 'oward?"

Howard wished he had more clothes to put on.

"Howard and Old Gregg have only begun to make love times," Old Gregg explained as he shyly touched Howard's shoulder. When Howard flinched, Old Gregg let his hand drop. "Tonight, my fuzzy little man peach will take Old Gregg in his strong arms and make me his own."

Howard suppressed a groan. He'd been wondering when Old Gregg's mangina would enter into the picture. He was as baffled as ever by what was going on under the merman's tutu. He'd refused to look in that direction and none of Gregg's self portraits was graphic enough to explain the nature of his "downstairs mix-up". The glow was too bright and hypnotizing.

Tonight, he was probably going to have to look.

"I hope you'll be thoughtful enough to let yer ole man watch this time," the Hitcher purred, "I do 'ate to miss a good show. Do you put on a good show, 'oward?"

Howard forced himself to look Old Gregg in the eye.

"Don't let him watch," he whispered, hating himself for the desperation in his voice.

xxx

He could see Vince sprawled out on the mattress of their hotel, his black hair spread out on his pillow. He was naked and unbearably beautiful. The younger man spread his legs and ran his hand over his own pale chest.

"It's time, Howard. You're finally going to fuck me. You've waited long enough," Vince said in a teasing voice. Howard stroked himself until he was fully hard. He was going to do this.

"Isn't this nice?" Vince asked, "Me just being docile and helpless while you get your way? This is how you like me best."

"You're hardly docile," Howard snapped, beginning to feel anxious. He used some salve to slip a finger inside of Vince who moaned.

"Mmm. All these years, you've kept me at your side with guilt over what I did as a teenager. Is that why you've never tried to fuck me? Because you know that would make us even and then I could move on?" Vince's face contorted in pleasure as Howard worked in a second finger.

It was going wrong, again.

"Please, Vince. Just help me get through this. I can't do this on my own," Howard whispered. Even the thought of Vince disappearing was making him lose his erection.

"Of course, Howard. Whatever you want. It's all about you," Vince sneered, "I'll be your blow-up doll and I'll rescue you and then I'll stay by your side forever because you'll be such a fucked up mess by the time I reach you..."

"Don't do this, Vince. I can't make Old Gregg angry," Howard pleaded. He tried to picture sweet Vince smiling up at him...

"Sweet Vince. That's the only Vince you like," Vince snapped, rolling his eyes, "I can't always be sweet. I'm a real person, not just your fantasy or your little ray of sunshine. I'm a real person and when I see what you've become... Are you sure you even want to be rescued?"

Howard opened his eyes. He was on his own.

His erection was gone but Old Gregg was moaning with every movement of Howard's fingers. Maybe it would be enough.

He rubbed his thumb around until Old Gregg tensed and whimpered. Howard had seen some really graphic pornography growing up, his father often fell asleep with it still playing on the telly, but he could barely see Old Gregg's mangina through the glow. He was flying blind. Howard rubbed a gentle circle around what he assumed was Gregg's clitoris as the merman shamelessly rubbed himself into Howard's hand. It was strange. Howard was disgusted but being in a horrified state for days (weeks?) had left him nearly immune. He had done so many terrible things already. Somehow, seeing Gregg's pleasure at his touch was almost endearing. Despite what dream-Vince seemed to think, Howard's fantasies about Vince had always been about bringing the younger man pleasure. Before love or lust or even friendship, Howard had felt protective of the wide-eyed wood nymph of a boy who tried so hard to make people happy. He could still remember those big blue eyes shining with tears as Vince reluctantly explained that he couldn't read because, "the words keep movin' about and I guess I can't read fast enough to catch them."

Old Gregg had never stood a chance with the Hitcher as his father.

Maybe Howard had never stood a chance either.

"Oh, Howard," Vince sighed in his ear before resting his head on Howard's shoulder, "You're fine the way you are. I love you the way you are."

"The way I was..."

"Are. You might be a little more damaged but you're still my Howard," Vince said firmly. Howard looked at his shiny black hair...

"It's blond now," Vince corrected and his hair changed accordingly, "We'll get through this together. You're doing so well."

Howard slipped a third finger inside of Old Gregg while Vince wrapped his hand around Howard's free wrist. Vince guided Howard's hand to his flaccid cock. Howard gave himself a few half-hearted strokes but then Vince's hand wrapped around his.

"C'mon, Howard, I want to get you hard," Vince whispered, "I've wanted you for so long."

Howard focused on Vince's throaty commands and felt himself coming alive below the waist.

"That's right, Howard, get hard for me because I want you," Vince cooed, "I want you inside of me, that's the only way we'll even be close enough. I just want to be close to you."

"Thank you, Vince," Howard whispered as he reached full mast, "I need you so much..."

"Shh, just enjoy it, Howard. Don't think about anything but me and how much I want you."

Howard was gentle as he entered Old Gregg, Vince whispering in his ear the whole time. Old Gregg's sharp nails dug into his back and drew blood but Vince was there whispering, "You're making him feel so good, he can't help himself. You're so beautiful, why wouldn't he love you? I want to see your face when you come. I've always wanted to see like this. I think about it all the time. You, hard and ready for me, being gentle because you'd be worried about me even as I ask you to fuck me harder..."

As soon as it was over, the shame set in but Vince remained, promising to love him and find him. Old Gregg was there, too, snuggled into his side. Howard was too tired to try and squirm away. He was just relieved the Hitcher had been naive enough to drink Bailey's poured by Old Gregg and was unconscious for the foreseeable future.


	13. Chapter 13

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairings: Howard/Old Gregg, Vince/Howard

Rating: R

Warnings: under-aged sexuality, dub-con, violence, an obscure jazz reference, voodoo

Summary: Howard and Vince explore their dreams, Gregg thinks about love

Author's note: Overnight shift = fanfic

Disclaimer: The only way I make money from these stories is when I write them at work! All characters belong to the Boosh or, in the case of real people, to themselves.

Howard was looking at the wall of his childhood bedroom, trying to think about boring things so he could fall asleep. The room looked so much larger than he remembered.

The mattress shifted beneath him, there was someone in his bed. Howard's panic quickly turned to confusion as the answer drifted into his head.

It was just Howard. Seven foot tall, movie star (Errol Flynn came to mind) handsome, and brilliant to boot; all at the tender age of eighteen. Howard would have to check his photo albums but he was fairly certain he had never been a chiseled god.

He peeked over his shoulder and, sure enough, saw his eighteen-year-old self sleeping. His brain slowly worked through the confusing information, there was one too many Howards in this dream.

He looked at his skinny fingers and then ran his hand through longish, blondish hair. He was in Vince's body. This was the infamous night. The night everything changed.

Bloody hell. Howard was getting tortured enough in real life without his dreams going haywire as well. He tried to blink himself awake but dream-Howard was shifting beside him and he was suddenly engulfed in warmth. Dream-Howard had wrapped himself around Vince's small frame and there was an absurdly large erection pressed against Vince's rear-end.

Howard didn't remember this happening and he certainly would have remembered something like this. Even as he felt annoyed, he could feel Vince's anxiety. He was also assaulted with a barrage of disturbing mental images of what a thirteen-year-old boy expected from gay sex.

He could feel Vince's fear that it would hurt and that he'd make a fool of himself or disappoint his god-like version of Howard. He felt Vince's deep, if seriously misguided, fear that Howard would walk out of his life forever.

Dream-Howard moaned and rubbed himself against Vince, his hand resting on Vince's stomach.

He could feel Vince savoring of the touch and his eagerness to be held by dream-Howard. The thoughts made Howard sad. There really wasn't an appropriate way for an 18-year-old boy to hold a thirteen-year-old. He'd tried his best to be comforting, it just wasn't his strong suit. It still wasn't.

He felt Vince's relief echo his own as dream-Howard rolled back to his side of the bed but he also felt Vince's disappointment mixed with fear.

Howard was able to keep the slight body from rolling over and trying to make things right with dream-Howard. He felt a flutter of panic but whispered, "It's all right, Vince. I'm just sleeping... I don't know what I'm doing. I don't want anything from you."

He could feel Vince's hurt feelings. He tried again.

"I don't know what's happening here, Vince, or why but... That lump next to you loves you. He loves you more than he's ever loved anyone and he wouldn't do anything to hurt you right now. He'd happily take your father's place in the hospital if it meant you could go back to being a carefree kid for a little longer. He doesn't think of you... in that way... not yet. But he will and it won't be easy for him. It's going to be really upsetting and confusing, actually, but he... I will always love you. I love you, Little Man, and I always will. I love you, Vince."

He wants to keep talking, he wants to make Vince understand but there are sharp nails scraping his scalp and dragging him back to the waking world. He realizes too late that his final, "I love you, Vince," was said out loud. He braces himself for the inevitable. It doesn't occur to him to beg for his life anymore, he just waits for the pain to end.

xxx

Old Gregg hasn't quite gotten the hang of 'love' yet. A few times, he thought he'd found love but it turned out to be something else. Curly Jefferson wasn't love. Slash wasn't love - though he still made Old Gregg feel tingly. Old Gregg loved his father, that's why he kept the ornery bastard alive.

He thought he felt love the first time he spied Howard bickering with his pretty lady man friend. He'd been ready to remove the lady man from the picture when he fortuitously chose to leave on his own, on a raft.

And then Old Gregg had Howard all to himself, if only for a short time. The hours when Gregg believed the big Northerner was his one true love had been the happiest of his life. Howard was different from the others. While the others had screamed in terror, Howard had been calm and flippant. Even when threatened to be stuffed alive, Howard moved smoothly into the character of leading man without soaking his clothes through with sweat, unlike Slash.

Even though Howard betrayed him by leaving, betrayed him by stealing the funk and betrayed him by running back to his pretty little friend, Old Gregg did not want to kill Howard. For a while, Gregg thought that was love: the desire not to murder someone (instead of the indifference one normally feels).

But now he knew there was more to love than not wanting someone dead.

Howard had just said his pretty friend's name again. He said it sometimes in his sleep or during their love making times. It didn't make Old Gregg happy but it no longer filled him with blind rage.

What Howard did during their times changed the world for Gregg. What he'd experienced of sex before had been angry and frightening but Howard was quiet and gentle. Gregg normally ignored his mangina in favor of his shenis. The shenis was much easier to operate. Nearly any kind of contact brought pleasure to the shenis. A sharp wind could bring pleasure to the shenis. He'd offered his mangina for Howard's pleasure because he knew Howard would want to feel like a strong man (as explained to him by his old man). He hadn't expected Howard to bring Gregg pleasure. Howard was surely in possession of some kind of ancient wisdom and Gregg wondered why he wasn't honored among the land dwellers for his skill. He had brought Gregg more pleasure with his thumb than Gregg had ever experienced before.

Hearing Howard speak the other's name made Gregg jealous and angry and he did raise his hand to strike the unfaithful thoughts from his lover's head.

But then Howard had trembled with fear, his hands raised over his face, trying to protect himself from Gregg's fist.

Seeing Howard afraid made Gregg feel unhappy.

"Stop being scared, Howard," Gregg ordered, "Old Gregg loves you."

"I'm sorry Gregg," Howard whispered, his voice trembling as much as his hands.

The Hitcher laughed and walked over. He ran his hand along Howard's bare thigh, "Nothing to be scared of, boy. We're going to take care of you just fine."

Howard tried to keep a sheet over his body but Gregg's father was trying to touch him everywhere. Old Gregg knew his father coveted anything that was not his. It was just one of the character flaws Old Gregg had been able to identify in his father over the centuries.

"Old Gregg, please, don't let him..." Howard whispered, softly. He was still shaking with fear.

"Father knows not to make love times to Howard," Gregg said, trying to sound soothing as he ran his nails through Howard's hair, careful not to draw blood.

"That's right, sonny boy," the Hitcher sneered, running a nail from Howard's testicles to his anus, "I'm not gonna try and make love to ya, Howard."

Gregg liked to watch Howard squirm, his body was more sensitive than most humans, but the touching made Howard afraid. Old Gregg didn't like to see Howard afraid.

Maybe that was love.

Old Gregg used one arm to knock the Hitcher across the room, "Father is scaring Howard. Stay away."

The Hitcher climbed to his feet, "Oi, the ingratitude! I raised you from a guppy when your mum abandoned you..."

"Old Greggory is tired of that story. Perhaps father has a new one."

"Perhaps I'll go for a walk, s'almost Mardi Gras. The streets'll be filled with brain dead and drunken tourists looking for a time they'll never remember. I'd 'ate to leave them disappointed," the Hitcher said, with a jaunty tip of his hat, "I'll leave to two of you in privacy."

Old Gregg smiled at his father's generosity and turned his gaze to Howard. He watched the big man's body relax as Gregg's father left the cave.

Old Gregg ran his hand over Howard's broad chest, "We're alone, my love."

Howard looked worried so Gregg tried to be more gentle with his touch.

xxx

Sally woke up to find herself in the arms of that hairy guy from that band that did that song. And that other song that sounded just like it.

That's right, she was on a mission with Slash.

And the ghost of Marie Laveau.

She had returned to New Orleans to study the effects of fracking, visit her family and get wasted for Mardi Gras. How had she been blown so far off course?

Vince and Marie were deep in conversation. The Voo Doo queen ran her hand along his sharp features and spoke too quietly for Sally to discern her words but Vince looked thoughtful. Then his face broke into one of his broad and disarming smiles. That's how she got blown off course, that irresistible smile.

She and Slash watched as Marie took Vince's scarf from her "grave" and wound it around his head into a turban much like her own. Oddly enough, it suited him. It seemed as though all hats suited Vince.

And then she was gone. Slash summed up Sally's feelings by whispering, "Holy fucking shit. Am I high?"

xxx

Sally navigated as Slash steered her boat. She was beautiful in her fierce concentration. Vince could imagine her working in a lab with beakers, only to suddenly release her wild curls from a bun as she yelled, "Eureka!" He could almost hear Howard lecturing him on getting all his understanding of science from bad horror movies. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He couldn't possibly miss an arm or a leg as much as he missed his Howard. When Howard had gone off to be an actor, Vince had waited impatiently for him to either return or call for Vince to join him. He never thought they would stay apart. Once Howard decided to leave the zoo with Vince, he'd felt confident that they would be a double act forever. Howard loved being a zoo keeper but he loved Vince more. Bollo had been all too willing to rough Howard up and make it look realistic that Howard had been over-powered rather than complicit in Bollo's "escape". They had all been prepared for Howard to balk at the plan but, instead, he took it all in stride.

He only made one demand. Bollo had to kick Bob Fossil in the ass on the way out. Although Bollo and Howard rarely saw eye to eye, they seemed to be of one mind when it came to Fossil.

Poor Fossil literally didn't know what hit him. He's lost his tape recorder in the scuffle.

Vince had been ready to move on before Naboo announced he was being "called" to take a familiar and had even considered leaving a few times but not without Howard. Never without Howard.

Sally cast him a sympathetic look and Vince forced a smile. People who had never met Howard were risking their lives to find him, the least he could do is not bring them down with his maudlin thoughts. He couldn't be positive but after one of Vince's mini-breakdowns, he was pretty sure he heard Slash calling Axl on his mobile, just to say hi.

"Now, what exactly did Marie say about Howlin' Jimmy Jefferson?" Sally asked.

"She said he moved out of his swamp because he was afraid of a turtle from outer space," Vince explained.

Again.

"You're absolutely sure she said turtle?" Sally asked.

Again.

"Yes."

"From outer space?"

"Yes."

Sally turned back to her charts.

xxx

Vince wasn't asleep, but he wasn't awake either. He could feel the rocking of the boat, he could smell the swamp water. He could also see Howard, naked except for a thin sheet. Marie said these "dream walks" were a gift, similar to bi-location. She said love was the second most powerful force in the human world, the first being (obviously) Marie Laveau.

"Howard, we're coming to save you! I just need to find a turtle from outer space and we'll be all set."

Howard frowned, "Not the Star Turtle."

"Yeah! That's the one! He's gonna help us. I think. Marie Laveau said he scared the Spirit of Jazz out of the Black Swamp and..."

"Vince?"

"Yeah, Howard?"

Howard took Vince's hand and pulled it to his face. He didn't look at Vince, he just stared at the ceiling but his sheet was gone.

Vince gave Howard a chaste kiss on the forehead, "S'all right, Howard. I'm here now and we're going to get you through this."

He could almost feel Howard's fear. Fears. Howard was afraid of so many things.

"C'mon, Howard! You've been to hell and back! You'll be okay. I won't let you not be okay," Vince promised before he began trailing kisses down Howard's stomach. It had been a long time since he'd been with a man, hazy dreams aside, but nothing could have been more natural than taking Howard into his mouth, using his hands to stroke every available inch of his big, warm, swamp-smelling body. The swamp smell was putting him off a bit but, everything else was pure Howard. The man he'd loved since he was child. Big, strong, brainy...

_Weak, fearful, old before his time..._

Howard's thoughts were echoing in Vince's brain.

**Handsome, brave, kind...** Vince thought, scrunching his forehead with the effort of trying to drown out the negative voice.

_Broken, scared, insane... _

**Beautiful.**

_Unworthy..._

**Never!**

Vince tried to show Howard with his thoughts and with his hands and with his mouth just how much he cared. Once Howard managed to orgasm, Vince whispered loving nonsense into his ear as Old Gregg held his pet tightly. He could see Old Gregg as clear as day. He was encouraged by the gentleness in Old Gregg's touch. He'd seemed much more frightening in the earlier dreams. Now Gregg was looking at Howard with less crazed possessiveness. He looked loving. Vince saw a twisted version of his own love reflected in strangely familiar eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, threatened non-con, hints of underage sexuality, angst, hints of child abuse

Summary: Vince, Slash and Sally are hot on the trail but Vince is having trouble keeping tabs on Howard.

Author's Note: Things have been a bit crazy, sorry to be so slow in posting and thank you to everyone who is still following. Feedback, good or bad, is eaten up like little cakes.

It took some convincing but Slash came around and was singing "Sweet Child'O'Mine", complete with singing out his guitar solos.

"Sweet child of my-ye-yine..."

Vince was meant to stay asleep so he could keep track of Howard and Old Gregg. He couldn't see Howard, though. All he could see was the back of his eyelids.

xxx

That part of the male brain that sometimes does, but often does not, wake up b him up before he comes in his pants had just kicked in and Vince was sitting up in bed.

He batted away the hand that was on him. Strange and upsetting images flooded Vince's brain, telling him _why_ he needed to be afraid of people in his bedroom. He remembered Nan Moon screaming at him and dragging him out of bed to clean some imaginary "filth" that only she could see. He could feel Howard's mum holding him and crying and talking about all the reasons she hated her life and how she would kill herself if weren't for him. There was some creepy guy asking Howard if he liked candy until Howard screamed for his mother leadin to another night of his mother's hysterical crying - this time about how she was a terrible mum and couldn't take care of him properly.

And now, it was a golden haired imp, staring at him with huge, blue eyes full of fear. Vince recognized himself but he knew his hair had never been so golden, it had always been dirty blond. He'd certainly never been so cherubic, he'd always been skinny and pointy. Even as an infant, he'd had a sort of boney charm rather than chubby cheeks.

New, horrible thoughts assaulted Vince. Shame smothered his already tenuous grasp on reason. All he could feel was hostility coming at him from every direction.

_Monster! Freak! Paedophile! _

Vince wanted to cover his ears and block out the hateful words but he couldn't seem to move his hands.

He looked down at the big Northern mits in his lap. They certainly weren't his hands. He could never work a sewing machine with those giant hands.

He tried to sort through the thoughts surrounding him and come up with something coherent, something to help him get sorted.

_Why would I hurt Vince?_

"You didn't hurt Vince. He's fine," Vince yelled, trying to be heard over the din, "I don't understand where all this is coming from. You just play some Bowie and I'm back to sleep, a little embarrassed but fine. You never done nothing to me."

_He scared. He's trapped here._

"He's scared because he realized you was just sleeping. He thought you was... He has a big crush on you, that's all. He's just a kid," Vince explained, feeling embarrassed for his younger self. The horrible thoughts didn't stop, but they slowed down and Vince could breath.

The dream or memory or whatever it was began to progress as usual and soon little Vince was sleeping peacefully while Howard worried about what would happen when Vince told his parents. Would they ever believe Howard hadn't meant something untoward? He'd only meant to keep Vince safe from his personal house of horrors. He tended to forget Vince was growing up.

"That's cause I never really grow up, do I? I just get taller."

What if they pressed charges?

Vince's heart was pounding with Howard's increasing anxiety.

He would never see Vince again. The thought seemed so much more upsetting than going to gaol as a pervert.

"You really love me, don't you?" Vince asks as he sees himself through young Howard's eyes. He'd always assumed Howard was fond of him as a child but he's surprised how much the older boy cared before Vince really had anything to offer. He was too young to really be a friend and Howard wasn't attracted to him yet...

_You're so sweet and cute, like a kitten dressed as a puppy._

"Oi, that's a bit much, dontcha think? I'm a bit weird looking..."

_You sing to yourself even when other people are around and you try to make me sing, too, and you painted a pencil case for me when I started university._

"You never used it! No way."

_I kept it on my desk in every class. I liked when people asked about it and the drawings on the covers of my notebooks._

Vince had forgotten those. He'd forgotten how indulgent Howard had been in those days. He even let Vince decorate a pair of his shoes.

_Your drawings make me smile. Before I met you, I hardly ever smiled. I won't smile again if..._

"S'all turns out fine, you can relax. Mum understands everything and tells me I have to behave so I don't cause trouble for you."

A deep, Howardy chuckle erupts and suddenly turns into a sob and Vince is hit by a wave of sadness. Poor Howard doesn't understand how families are supposed to work. He'll always be surprised by acceptance.

There's a cold hand on Howard's shoulder and the world gets blurry.

xxx

Howard's eyes snap open and the Hitcher is standing over him. He searches for Gregg with his eyes.

"'e's not 'ere, my boy. 'e'll be gone for awhile. It's just you and me."

Long nails dug into Howard's chin as his face was pulled nose to nose with the Hitcher.

"Where's he gone?" Howard asked, trying to keep his voice light, "Did he pop out to hit a shop..."

Howard was suddenly on the floor and the Hitcher was opening his trousers.

_Vince, help me, Vince. I can't do this. I can't._

"So don't do it," Vince suggested. He was standing in front of Howard: long, lean, pale and naked.

"I don't know how to escape. Where they go, it's just rock. I can't figure out how they get out..."

A hand was pulling him by the hair.

"At least fight, ya know?" Vince continued with a toss of his black hair, "Don't just give in all the time. Have some self-respect. Is the word no even in your vocabulary?"

"He'll kill me."

Vince's voice is gentle and tender as he says, "Don't you think that might be for the best? Do you really want me to find you like this? Spend the rest of my life taking care of you, knowing the truth about you?"

The first slap knocked Howard back to the ground.

"Good for you, Howard!" Vince yelled, his face lit up with a grin, "Yer finally showing some backbone!"

xxx

Vince crashed to the floor of the boat. Sally was screaming and had her gun drawn.

Slash was gone.

"Oh my god! I was a monster, he grabbed Slash, I didn't even have time... Holy fuck, Vince. This is real. This is fucking really happening."

Vince wrapped his arms around Sally, carefully avoiding the gun she had pointed at the water where Slash must have disappeared.

"We gotta be close, right?" Vince said as he patted Sally's big, fluffy hair, "We're almost there. We just gotta find this Star Turtle..."

"How are you so calm? There's a fucking sea monster in this water..."

"These things happen to me'n'Howard all the time. You just learn to go with it, really. Howard just woke up so he's..."

If Old Gregg was busy grabbing Slash, he must not have been the one to wake up Howard. Vince's stomach twisted at the thought but he couldn't start panicking now. They were so close.

_Hang on, Howard. Just stay alive and I'll be there soon_, he thought as hard as he could.

Vince grabbed the bass Slash had brought along to call the Star Turtle and turned to his sexy sidekick.

"You know how to play one of these things?"

"I played bass in a environmental activist lesbian funk group in college," Sally said as she took the bass in her shaking hands.

"Where you any good?"

"God, no. We were horrible but I learned a few licks."

xxx

Vince screwed his eyes shut and focused on the funky bass line, trying to bring Howard into focus.

_Come on, Howard. Help me out here. Reach back._

Nothing but the back of his eyelids. Howard needed to fall asleep, pass out or...

_Reach back, Howard!_

Nothing. Howard was either awake and doing perfectly well, on his own with the Hitcher or...

_Stop talking to that horrible Vince! Listen to me! I'm real, not him! He's a jerk._

Nothing.

Nothing.

_Vince? _

It was whispery and weak but it was Howard.

xxx

As soon as Howard lost consciousness, Vince was there.

"You! Out! We don't need you," Vince barked at the black haired Vince, "You're horrible and I ain't that pointy!"

The Hitcher was staring at Howard, a pocket knife in hand.

"This is going to cause me some discomfiture with m'boy," he mused, fiddling with the knife as he examined Howard's prone form, "Might be easier ta explain yer complete absence than yer current state."

Vince plucked the knife out of the Hitcher's hand.

"Look, Howard, it worked! This is well cool! All right."

Vince smiled as he held the knife up for Howard's appreciation.

"Be careful, Vince!" Howard whispered but that was not a word in Vince's vocabulary.

The Hitcher covered his non-Polo eye and surveyed the room. He ended up looking vaguely in Vince's direction.

"He sees you!" Howard hissed, "Get out of here!"

"Now what might you be?" the Hitcher asked, moving towards Vince.

"Vince Noir, Rock'n'roll star," Vince answered with his normal conviviality, "And I just need to rescue my friend. We can keep Old Gregg right out of this..."

"Noir? The boney fella with the big, blue peepers?"

"I prefer to think of myself as having strong features..."

"Welcome home, m'boy," the Hitcher said with a syrupy sweet smile.

"Thanks, it's nice to be... What? I never been here before," Vince said, backing away from the green menace.

"I don't know the French word for swamp but I know what Noir means. Yer right where you belong, m'boy! Here is the Black Swamp."

Howard should have gone along with whatever the Hitcher wanted. He'd be in pain but he'd be able to stand up, able to help Vince instead of being completely useless.

"S'all right, Howard," Vince said without looking away from the Hitcher, "He can't hurt me. I'm not really here."

"You're holding that knife, ain't ya, boy?" the Hitcher sneered, "You're real enough."


	15. Chapter 15

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language, implied violence, angst

Summary: Old Gregg isn't the only funky creature in the Black Swamp

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh, Slash or anyone, really. I actually quite like the Star Turtle album.

Author's note: Hope you all had a lovely Jesus weekend and until Howard gets funding for Charles Manson: the musical, you can entertain yourself with this chapter. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

Sally's fingers were already sore, she hadn't played in ages, but things were getting desperate. She'd played nearly every bass run she could remember and there was still no sign of life in the water. Vince was on the floor of the boat, talking to himself, and somewhere Slash was trapped with a transsexual merman with abandonment issues. She needed help.

As she often did in times of stress, she turned to Chaka Khan.

"You ain't got no kind of feeling insi-i-i-ide," she sang with more feeling than skil, "I got something that'll sure 'nough set your stuff on fi-i-i-ire..."

If the Star Turtle didn't like "Tell Me Something Good", he was surely a dick and incapable of helping them anyway.

"Mmmm, Chaka Khan."

The voice was deep and strange. Sally nearly beat the intruder with her bass before realizing it was just a talking turtle.

Just a talking turtle. This was her life now.

"Are you really the Star Turtle? From outer space?" she asked, not caring how foolish she sounded.

"You know it, baby, the one and only."

"And you met Harry Connick Jr.?"

"You know I did. He showed me the best of New Orleans jazz."

"What did you think of his album about you?"

The Star Turtle squatted the thick legs resting on the edge of the boat in what seemed to be a turtle equivalent of a shrug, "I thought it was a solid effort."

Sally smiled, this had to be the real thing.

"There is apparently a merman..."

"The funky sea transsexual?'

"Yes, him and his father..."

"The Hoxton Rapist?"

"I suppose... Anyway, they've got my friend," she pointed at Vince who was mumbling and holding out his hand as though he were holding something, "Well, they have his friend, Howard, and now they've got Slash. Do you know Guns'n'Roses?"

The Star Turtle nodded, "I thought I saw the merman swimming by with some breathing seaweed. That might have been Slash."

"Can you help us find them?"

The turtle looked as puzzled as a turtle could look with his naturally wizened face, "I can take you to their cave but they don't take kindly to visitors. Least not for long."

Sally refused to think about what the turtle meant. All that mattered was they finally knew where they were going.

"Why isn't that one green?" the turtle asked, looking at Vince with interest.

"What? No, he's human, he's just... caught up in some Voo-Doo thing, I don't know what it is exactly..."

"The merman and his father are green."

"He's got nothing to do with them, they have his friend."

The turtle nodded, "He looks like one of them but then, all humans look a bit alike to me. No offense. It's just hard to tell you apart when you don't bring your houses with you."

"No offense taken," Sally assured the turtle, "Please help us find our friends."

xxx

Howard could see everything but his body remained unconscious. What he had attributed to a simple descent into insanity was now starting to seem like something real.

"Vince, I can't move," Howard whispered.

"You're unconscious and you got a ton of blood on your face. If I couldn't see you breathin', I would be well scared right now," Vince explained as he warily moved about the cave, holding the Hitcher's knife, "I'm a bit scared now."

"Why can you hear me?" Howard asked.

The Hitcher glanced in Howard's direction, still covering his non-Polo peeper.

"What in the name of all that's evil is goin' on 'ere?"

"None of your business, ya berk! Now let me'n'Howard go or I'll stab you up," Vince snapped with a threatening jab of his knife.

"Oh!" laughed the Hitcher, "A boy made of sunshine's gonna give me a stabbin'! I don't know what branch of the Noir family yer from boy but it ain't the stabbin' branch. You ever killed some'in, little boy?"

"No," Vince said with his compulsive honesty, "but no one's ever hurt Howard this bad before, neither." 

"Vince, don't get yourself killed," Howard pleaded, "He's pure, liquid evil, eh? You can't fight him."

"Howard, you watch the wrong kind of movies," Vince said with an unusually thoughtful tone, "We're the good guys."

Howard didn't bother pointing out his own moral relativism because Vince clearly was the good guy. Even at his worst and most selfish, Vince didn't have a malicious bone in his body. He just didn't think before (during or after) he spoke. He lived in the moment and it was part of his impish charm. Why it never got him killed was anybody's guess.

The Hitcher was circling Vince, coming between him and Howard.

"I can smell the Voo-Doo on you, boy," the Hitcher snarled, "I ain't afraid of charms and chicken bones."

"Gross! I don't have chicken bones! I do have this packet of gris-gris that Marie Laveau give me..."

As Vince held out the small packet he'd kept in his boot, the Hitcher stepped backwards and tripped over Howard's unconscious body.

"Oi! Get off of Howard! You done enough damage!" Vince yelled, his eyes quickly glancing at and away from Old Gregg's watercolors. The black haired Vince had a point. As much as Howard didn't want to actually die, he was not looking forward to living with Vince after being rescued. His hopes of altering the story to make it more palatable for everyone had rather relied on no one seeing graphic water colors of his ordeal (compete with terrible perspective technique and half-assed cross-hatching).

But he still wanted to survive. He still believed he had something to give.

The Hitcher made a big show of apologizing to Howard's unconscious form, being downright solicitatious before pulling a bolo knife out of his boot.

"No, _I_ 'ave done quite a bit of stabbin' in my time, sonny boy. D'ja really want to go toe-to-toe with me?"

"Go, Vince! Go back to where you're safe!" Howard yelled. The Hitcher turned slightly. Though his actual eyes were closed, Howard could see the suspicious stare the Hitcher was giving his nearly lifeless body. He clearly knew something was happening but couldn't quite get a handle on what.

"I ain't leavin' you, Howard! No way am I leavin' you!" Vince cried before disappearing.

xxx

Vince's eyes shot open as he landed in the cold water. Sally had him around the waist and he was still holding a pocket knife.

"You found the Star Turtle!" Vince yelled, "All right! We gotta get to Howard quick fast. The Hitcher is there and... and Howard's hurt real bad."

"Don't worry, brother," assured the Star Turtle, "Just take a breath and hold on tight."

Vince did as he was told, gripping the shell tightly as the turtle slipped under water. The slow moving turtle was gone, replaced by an Olympic swimmer. It was a job to hold onto his shell as he tore through the inky blackness of the swamp. Just as Vince thought he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, they surfaced.

"We're almost there," the turtle announced, "Take a deep breath."

Vince and Sally did as the were told and the three plunge back into the darkness of the swamp.

"Where's the entrance?" the Star Turtle asked.

Vince looked at the wall of stone.

"I know you can see it, Vince. Show us the door," the Turtle rumbled.

He could see it. Why hadn't he noticed the glow before?

xxx

Howard was losing track of time. He could have sworn he'd been conscious since Vince had disappeared and yet, he did not witness the arrival of a breathing heap of seaweed.

"Howard," Howard jumped at the sounded of Old Gregg's voice, "This is Slash. He and Old Gregg were in love but Slash ran away. Slash and Old Gregg have matching tracking devices."

"Oh, fuck," the seaweed moaned, "You had be tagged, too?"

"Of course, Slash. Slash was the first man to give Old Gregg jewelry, he had it shot into my back, but Old Gregg has moved on."

Old Gregg gave Howard a loving stare.

"Where's your old man?" Howard asked in a carefully neutral tone.

"He was touching Howard without Old Gregg's permission. He's going to need to rest for a while."

Howard nearly smiled. The Hitcher was reaping what he'd sown in rather a literal way.

"Old Gregg and Slash need to talk and Howard needs to rest. Old Gregg will put Howard in the pantry with father, where it's quiet."

Howard pleaded but Old Gregg shushed him in a way that left no room for argument. Howard soon found himself on a thin mattress on the floor of the small 'pantry'/ alcove with a wooden door. He was only feet away from the unconscious Hitcher and surrounded by hundreds of bottles of Bailey's.

He desperately tried to remain alert but he'd lost a lot of blood and it wasn't long before his eyes were drifting shut.

xxx

"Howard! Howard!"

Howard blinked up at Vince, there was just enough light peeking under the pantry door to let him see Vince's golden blond hair dangling in Howard's face.

He was trapped in a pantry with the Hitcher and Vince was kneeling over him. Howard closed his eyes and grabbed Vince by the shoulders. Whatever was about to happen, he was in no shape to face it.

"I can't be brave, Vince. I can't, I'm sorry. Please help."

He pressed his lips to Vince's but the younger man was pulling away.

"No, Vince, please..." Howard held him tightly but the Vince was still wriggling free, "I need you. I'm sorry, I do. Please don't leave me."

"S'all right, Howard, I'm here to save you," Vince said with a smile, his eyes never meeting Howard's.

Howard ran his fingers through soft yellow hair, "Thank you, Vince. I love you so much."

Vince smiled sweetly but still pulled away when Howard tried for another kiss. Howard was beginning to feel anxious, blond Vince was supposed to be the loving Vince.

He tried to sit up but a pain in his ribs sent him crashing back to the floor.

"Vince, I'm too weak for this. Just... please be sweet," Howard ran a hand along Vince's jaw line, "Just be beautiful and kind and... just be sweet to me a little longer. All right?"

Vince had tears in his eyes, "S'okay, Howard. It's all going to be okay, now. Can you stand?"

Howard staggered to his feet with Vince's help, "What's happening, Vince? I don't understand."

"I'm saving you, Howard," Vince repeated, pulling Howard's arm around his slim shoulders.

"You're always saving me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you always have to save me," Howard leaned heavily on Vince as he was pulled along, now a literal burden on the young man. Black-haired Vince's words were ringing in his ears. What would become of Vince if he found Howard? What kind of life would he have tied to a broken shell of man like Howard?

Vince gave him a quick kiss, just barely hitting Howard's lips, before looking away, "We save each other, Howard."

"What's going to happen to me, now?" Howard asked, his tremulously. He despised the weakness in his own voice but Vince remained gentle and free of scorn.

"You're going to be fine. I'm going to make sure of it," Vince promised.

Vince swung open the door of the pantry to reveal a soaking wet woman holding a gun wrapped in a plastic bag.

Vince's sexy sidekick.

"Is this... real?" Howard asked, turning to get a proper look at Vince.

Vince was soaked to the bone, his blond hair hanging lankly around his face which bore no sign of make-up. His nose was slightly freckled and there was a slight scar near his hairline from his Nicky Clarke hot iron. Dream Vince was always glossy magazine perfect, an idealized picture of perfection.

And he never smelled like a petting zoo.

He was really being rescued.

The world went black again.


	16. Chapter 16

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: violence, angst

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Summary: Howard is finally rescued.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, the Mighty Boosh are monkey geniuses, this is just for fun. Just being a fanatic.

Author's note: The comforting begins.

Old Gregg was huddled over Slash, hissing like a cat. He was infinitely more frightening in person than in Vince's drawings. Meanwhile, Vince was struggling to keep the unconscious Howard from collapsing to the floor. Sally felt sickened by the amount of visible, physical damage that had been done to Howard in only a few days. She had seen dozens of pictures and drawings of Howard. Vince was constantly showing them to people and animals in hopes of a lead but then he also just sat and looked at them whenever there was a quiet moment. There had been varying degrees of unkemptness but each picture had featured a handsome man with a mustache and a mixture of affection and annoyance in his warm, narrow eyes.

The right side of Howard's face was swollen, and there were two lines of stitches on his forehead. His lip was clearly split under his mustache and five day stubble. He was covered in bruises and scratches. He was also naked.

"I've got dry clothes in the boat, Vince," Sally said without looking away from Old Gregg, "We just need something to get him through until then."

She could see Vince out of the corner of her eye, struggling to gently place Howard on the pile of thin mattresses on the ground. Eventually, the two of them just collapsed with a thud.

"Listen here, mother licker," Sally declared, something about Old Gregg was bringing out the Foxy Brown in her, "I'm leaving here with Howard and Slash. Now, if you want, I'll leave a few bullets behind - in your skull- or you can just stand back and I'll leave you in peace."

"Howard belongs with Old Gregg..." the merman began.

"No!" Vince yelled, "He belongs with me! He's always belonged with me. I would never... Look at what you did to him."

Old Gregg looked a little less feral as he watched Vince trying to put a beige suit on Howard's unconscious body.

"Old Gregg is still learning how to take care of Howard..."

"Yeah? Well, it looks like you beat the shit out of him," Sally snapped, "And you're not getting a second chance so hands in the air or get shot between the eyes. Your choice, brother."

"Don't shoot him."

Sally turned for a second at the unfamiliar voice and Old Gregg made a run for Howard, but shot in the leg brought him to a halt. He lay on the ground hissing but didn't seem overly troubled by the bullet in his body. He was reacting like he'd stubbed his toe.

Howard was awake and fumbling to button his own shirt while Vince hovered, not quite touching Howard but ready to catch him if he fell.

"Old Gregg," Howard said in a deep but gentle voice, "I know you don't understand... You need to try and find someone you can love and not kill. Maybe a shark?"

"The human is right," the Star Turtle added with a rumble, "Humans have thin skin and tiny bones they only cover with a bit of squishy fat. They can't handle your funky sea lovin'. You need to let these humans go."

Old Gregg was looking at Howard with sorrowful eyes, "But what about the Love Times, Howard? Old Gregg and Howard..."

"I don't want to see you dead, Old Gregg. That's the extent of my emotional investment here. You need to let Slash get back to doing... whatever it is he does and you need to let me live my life in peace. If you can promise you'll leave me be, no one will hurt you."

"Is that really a good idea, Howard? I mean, he did lure us to another country with a rather complicated plot..." Vince offered with trepidation.

"Promise me, Old Gregg and I will believe you."

Old Gregg's blue eyes were filled with such sadness, Sally nearly lowered her gun.

Nearly.

"But Old Gregg loves Howard."

Howard sighed, "I know. I'm sorry but I love someone else. It's not fair but that's how life is sometimes."

Old Gregg and Vince glared at one another and Sally could suddenly understand why the Star Turtle thought they were of the same ilk. Vince was a kitten to Old Gregg's tiger but they both looked ready to bare their claws.

"Can Old Gregg give Howard one last kiss before he leaves?" Old Gregg asked in a tiny voice.

"No," Howard said in a gentle but firm tone, "and if you take one step towards me, that young lady is going to shoot you in the face. Good bye, Old Gregg."

xxx

Once they managed to climb back into the boat with the help of the Star Turtle, Sally grabbed the blankets and track suits she kept stocked in her boat for emergencies. The Star Turtle promised to follow them and make sure they got to land without any unwanted company.

"Okay, guys. Hypothermia is a serious risk here. Everyone needs to strip completely, put on dry clothes and wrap up tight..." Sally drifted off as she watched Howard's face. He was practically radiating pain.

"But," Sally continued, "I didn't sign up to be a lesbian so I could look at a bunch of shriveled white penises so let's work out a privacy system."

They took turns holding up blankets until they were all huddled in their track suits and burlap blankets. They looked like a group of shipwrecked mobsters.

No one said a word as Sally steered them back towards land. It was so quiet, Sally could hear Vince's teeth chattering.

"Are you all right, Vince?" Sally asked, "Do you need some more heat packs?"

"I'm f-f-f-fine," was Vince's unconvincing response.

"Here, Little Man," Howard said softly, holding his blanket open, "I told you the GI diet was a bad idea. A person needs some body fat."

Vince carefully snuggled into Howard's side, "Cheers, Howard."

There were a few more minutes of silence before Vince began sobbing.

"Hey, Little Man," Howard whispered, "It's all right, yeah? Everything is going to be fine now."

Vince snuffled and nodded, "Yeah, Howard. Everything's gonna be fine, cause you're back and I'm not leaving you alone for a second. I'll be at your jazzercise classes, hanging out with Lester Cornflakes, shopping at the Geography Teacher's Clothing Emporium..."

Howard chuckled then grimaced in pain.

"Oh, Howard," Vince sighed, carefully resting his head on Howard's shoulder, "thanks for warming me up."

Howard tentatively pressed his lips to Vince's wet hair, "Any time, Little Man. Thanks for saving me. Again."

"We save each other," Vince corrected, "We're a double act, right?"

"That's right," Howard agreed flatly, his face suddenly devoid of expression.

"Hey, Howard? 

"Yeah?"

"I met Lil' Wayne."

Sally blamed the slight nip in the air for the fact her eyes wouldn't stop watering.

xxx

Once they were off the boat, Howard seemed a million miles away. Vince wanted to snuggle Howard but there didn't seem to be a part of the big man that wasn't covered in bruises and while Howard hadn't said the words - "Don't touch me" was writ loud and clear on his face and in his body language.

Slash was picked up in a limo filled with cartoonishly large men that Vince assumed were his new body guards. Sally walked Vince and Howard to their hotel room and offered to sleep on the floor, with her gun, but Howard insisted they were fine. Vince gave Sally a tight hug, at a loss for words to express his gratitude, but she seemed to understand. From day one, Sally had understood everything.

"So... that's your sexy side kick?" Howard asked after she left, his smile not reaching his eyes.

"Yeah, she's genius, Howard! She helped me out every step of the way. I don't know what I would have done without her," even as Vince gushed, his stomach knotted at the very thought. Without Sally, it would have taken even longer to find Howard and it had taken _so_ long.

Howard nodded as he stiffly tried to pull clothes out of his suitcase.

"Hey, Howard, let me get the shower going for you," Vince offered. Watercolors kept popping up in his brain no matter how hard he tried to forget what he'd seen. Howard surely wanted a shower.

"You go first," Howard suggested, gingerly sitting on his bed, "You're the one nearly freezing. You're still shivering like a Chihuahua without a pretentious sweater."

"We'll shower together! It'll be like that time the monkeys tried to form a rebellion and they were throwing their shit at us..." Vince slapped his hand over his mouth, realizing what he'd just suggested. Howard's face was neutral but he was digging his fingers into his own thighs so hard, Vince was sure he was leaving bruises.

"I didn't mean anything, Howard," Vince explained, staring at the bright orange water shoes Sally had given him to wear, "I'm not trying to be funny or act up..."

"I know, Vince," Howard said, cutting him off, "I... I'm a little unsteady on my feet. It might be best if you were there..."

Howard was blushing from his toes to his hairline, reminding Vince again of those god awful water colors. Even in the cave, Vince had wondered how Gregg could draw Howard in such loving (if unskilled) detail and not see how much it hurt Howard to have his privacy invaded in such a blatant manner. Howard, who wore stripy pajamas to bed and a bathrobe when he took a shower, had been mortified by the loincloth he'd been forced to wear on Xooberon. Vince's attempts to tell him he looked good only made Howard angry. Things had gotten hostile between them very quickly after that. Howard was very protective of his body and his personal space.

"I won't look," Vince promised, a little too loudly, causing Howard to look even more uncomfortable, "but you can lean on me. I can support you..."

Howard's shoulder were shaking and there were tears on his cheeks but he didn't make a sound. Vince kneeled in front of his friend, close but careful not to touch without invitation.

"I'm so sorry, Howard."

Howard tersely shook his head no.

Vince waited with patience he didn't know he possessed until Howard relaxed.

"You're shivering, Little Man," Howard said, his voice hoarse with emotion, "You need to warm up."

"Come with me?" Vince asked, "Let me prop you up for a bit?"

Howard stared at the wall and nodded, "I supposed I can lean on you for a little while..."

Despite every horrible thing that had happened in the past five days, Vince felt a smile threatening to break out on his face. His Northern giant finally wanted his support.


	17. Chapter 17

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: graphic sex, angst, angsty sex

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Summary: Howard and Vince both think they know how they should act and they both fail miserably.

Author's Note: Trying to finish a Nathan Barley fic for a big bang, sorry I'm taking so long between posts. It will end. Someday.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters (except Sally) and I would never try to make money off of them.

Howard looked in the bathroom mirror and the Elephant Man looked back at him, the Elephant Man in need of a shave.

"Oi!" Vince cried, "I look disgustin'! Why didn't anyone hand me a comb?"

Howard watched Vince run his fingers through his snarled, half dried hair. The young man looked thin and his eyes showed the stress of the last few days but he was, as always, beautiful.

"You look fine, Vince. Quit fussing over yourself," lecturing Vince felt so _normal_, "Remember the story of Narcissus."

"I ain't gonna fall in a mirror, Howard, less I'm tryin' to get back to monkey hell in which case, you'll be glad to see me!" Vince said with a bit of his normal cheekiness.

"Fair enough," Howard admitted. Vince turned on the shower and began pulling off his track suit.

"Why does this Sally keep track suits on her boat?" Howard asked as he hesitantly unzipped the jacket. It wasn't like he had anything to hide, Vince had certainly seen it all. Sally had seen it all, hell, the guitar player from Guns'n'Roses had seen it all.

"She takes teams out to collect water. She's doing some kind of big study about fracking. I don't know what that means, though. I thought it was something girls said when they didn't want to swear," Vince explained as he pulled off his bottoms, leaving him completely naked.

Howard pulled at his zip. He could do this.

"Is she some kind of...?"

"Lady scientist? Yeah. Genius! She's bad ass and well brainy. And sweet."

Howard forced a smile, "I'm glad she was there to help you. I was worried about you being on your own. Especially in this city..."

He flinched when Vince threw his arms around Howard's chest but he didn't pull away, he just let himself be held. He was never going to pull away from Vince again. He'd accept every hug and tummy pat. He was just going to take his fear of being touched and lock it in the same box deep in his brain where he kept all his other uncomfortable feelings.

"You were worried about me?" Vince sniffed, "If I didn't find Sally, I don't know what I'd have done. She didn't even know you but she never left my side, no matter how scary it got."

"She's obviously very fond of you but who doesn't love Vince Noir?" Howard teased. His heart was racing and he felt weak but he refused to end the embrace.

"It wasn't just me, though, because I told her..." Vince hesitated, "I told her a lot about you and I think... She just knew you were a good person is all and she wanted you to be safe."

"What did you tell her about me?" Howard asked, his old, workaday paranoia kicking in, "That I'm a jazz maverick, a genre spanner, a novelist?"

"Cyclist, stamp collector," Vince added, not quite laughing, "I told her you were my best mate."

"Thanks, Little Man."

"And that I love you," Vince added softly.

Vince had Howard's arms pinned down so it took some squirming to return the hug, "You know I love you, as well."

Talking about his feelings wasn't that bad, it was only slightly more uncomfortable than stapling a picture to his forehead.

"And I told her how you took care of me, even when I didn't deserve it and was horrible to you," Vince added with a sniff, "And how... I'm sorry, Howard."

Howard rocked Vince back and forth, his own anxiety easing in the face of Vince's distress, "Don't do this, Vince. Let's get you in the shower, yeah? You just need some rest and you'll be right as rain."

Vince sniffled and averted his eyes as Howard quickly stripped.

"Howard? I know you don't want to go to the hospital..." Vince began.

"No! I'm fine, I don't need a doctor. I can sort myself out," Howard snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of his tone. He just couldn't imagine trying to explain, being asked questions, being seen.

Vince was obviously fighting back tears and it was like a punch in the chest for Howard.

"Please don't be upset, Vince. I'm sorry. I never want to see you unhappy ever again," Howard said, resting his hands on Vince's thin shoulders and forcing a smile, "You don't know how much I've missed your sunshine."

Vince was trying to smile back and Howard gave him another awkward hug, "Now get in the shower before you catch your death."

xxx

Showering was awkward and painful but also wonderful. The warm water, the chattering nonsense of Vince and the smell of a root boosting shampoo made him feel safe.

Ish.

Vince yammered on about meeting celebrities, chatting with alligators and ghosts. It all sounded rather fun but when Howard said as much, Vince started crying again.

"It was horrible! I know it's stupid and selfish but... it was so horrible for me! I was so worried about you all the time and the dre... and everyone was being so helpful and I tried to be happy and not get them all depressed..."

Vince wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed his eyes shut, "I'm sorry, Howard, I keep doing things all wrong. I meant to be cheerful for you but I keep cryin'."

Howard pulled Vince into his arms as the warm water pelted his back. Every part of his body hurt but that pain had become familiar, seeing Vince upset was intolerable. Howard was never comfortable with being touched, never even comfortable in his own skin but Vince liked to be held and Howard was never going to let his Little Man down again.

"I'm so sorry, Howard," Vince mumbled into Howard's chest.

"Stop apologizing, Vince," Howard tutted, "You've had a rough time of it..."

"I meant about..." Vince pressed his lips to a deep scratch on Howard's chest, "I'm sorry it took so long. I'm sorry you got... you got hurt..."

Howard tried shushing again but ended up with a hand over Vince's mouth. He needed to take care of Vince, make Vince happy, protect Vince from... whatever Vince wanted to be protected from.

"It's all right, Vince, just... I don't want to see you unhappy," Howard stroked Vince's conditioner filled hair, "Just tell me what will make you happy."

Howard rocked Vince back and forth until the younger man stopped shaking, his breathing still uneven and his erection poking against Howard's thigh.

"Sorry..." Vince whispered, trying to pull back.

Howard shushed Vince again. He moved his hand slowly, giving Vince plenty of time to stop him, before wrapping his hand around the younger man's erection.

It only took a few strokes before Vince let out a choked sob and came in Howard's hand.

Vince collapsed into Howard's arms, managing to hit every bruise and scratch with his bony physique and yet feeling wonderful.

Howard cringed as Vince's fingers sought out Howard's flaccid cock.

"It's naught to do with you, Little Man," Howard whispered into Vince's ear, "It's me..."

"Howard," Vince whispered, "You know I feel... that way about you and I always will but you don't have to do anything until you feel like... I mean, you don't ever have to do anything ever but if you want to - I want to, too. Does that make sense?"

"Barely," Howard teased. He wasn't going to cry. The desire to break down again and let Vince comfort him was shoved into that locked box and buried it deep with about 75% of his childhood memories.

xxx

Vince had planned to be a ball of sunshine, doting on Howard but keeping a respectful distance. Instead he'd cried on the man's shoulder while getting a handy in the shower. He was starting to think he should have had Sally stay. She'd know how to take care of Howard, she'd taken care of Vince for days - not once putting her needs before his (or Howard's for that matter).

Now it was time for one more absurdly selfish act.

"Can I sleep in your bed, Howard? We can push it up against the wall and I'll be on the outside so if..." Vince trailed off as he realized where this clever idea for protecting Howard had come from.

Howard's smile was tight and didn't meet his eyes but he helped Vince push one of the beds flush against the wall. Vince kept his eyes on the floor as Howard changed into his stripey pajamas. Every bit of Howard's skin seemed to be bruised and scratched.

"I don't have any proper pajamas, Howard. Can I borrow a pair of yours?" Vince asked. he couldn't possibly sleep in Howard's bed in just his pants.

"Of course. Whatever you like," Howard said, his cheeks getting a bit pink as he stared at the ceiling.

Howard's pajamas were far too big but he pulled the drawstring tight and rolled up the sleeves. Howard laughed but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. Vince had the distinct impression Howard liked the way Vince looked in his pajamas. He would store that bit of info away for a more appropriate time.

"Sally gave me this first aid kit," Vince explained, pulling the white box with a red cross from under his bed, "it's got all kinds of stuff in it to make you feel better. There's ice packs and numbing stuff and pain killers..."

"I'm fine," Howard snapped.

"Sorry."

"I didn't mean to snap, Vince. Thank you for trying to help me. I... could use something for pain..."

Vince spent the next half hour playing doctor with Howard. It only bore a superficial resemblance to the ways he'd imagined playing doctor with his Northern giant but it was nice, nonetheless. When he finally crawled into bed, it felt almost natural. There wasn't a thought in his head when he kissed Howard on the cheek.

"Sorry, Howard. Sorry about apologizing so much. Sorry about... I'll shut up."

Howard smiled and pressed his lips to Vince's forehead, "Thank you, Little Man, for everything."

Howard turned his back to Vince, like he was going to go to sleep.

"Howard? Howard? Howard?"

"Yes?"

"If you have a bad dream, remember, you can always come be in my dream instead."

Howard didn't look back, "I don't think it works that way."

"I'm pretty sure it does," Vince argued, "and you're always welcomed in my dreams. Open door policy, no shirt or shoes required..."

"I'll keep that in mind," Howard said in a level voice, "Lunatic."

xxx

Parsley is on top of him and inside him, kissing him and stroking him everywhere. They are as close as humanly possible. Parsley nuzzles his neck and whispers beautiful things in Bunches' ear. He's just barely moving, giving Bunches time to adjust to his size. Parsley was slow and careful but there's still a sting.

Vince wanders through Bunches' hazy, lusty thoughts and suddenly he's really there and fully aware, wondering if it's possible to dreamwalk into his own dream. Marie hadn't mentioned anything about that but he'd been in a hurry that day.

Bunches' hazy thoughts are still whispering in Vince's head as Parsley begins to grind their hips together. Vince's heart is racing because he is suddenly sure this really happened. He and Howard, or at least Parsley and Bunches made love. Yes, there were a bunch of creepy Yetis watching, not to mention Bollo and Naboo, but it had still been special and loving. It was strangely comforting to know Howard had lost his virginity to someone who loved him before his kidnapping, even if he didn't remember it.

Vince moaned as Parsley moved his hips more aggressively. The friction was nearly unbearable. He was going to come before Parsley even got started.

And then Parsley stopped.

"Vince?"

Starry-eyed Parsley was gone and it was most definitely Howard that was literally balls deep in Vince.

"Howard?"

"What's happening?"

"I think you're in my dream, Howard."

Vince was lying on his back, his white gown hitched up around his waist with Howard buried deep inside of him. Of course, Howard wanted to talk.

"Why?" Howard asked, looking around nervously, "Why are we still sharing dreams? Am I back there? Vince, did I just dream I was rescued? Please don't lie to me, not even to make me feel better."

Howard looks so panicky that Vince hugs him tightly. Unlike Howard, Parsley's body is healthy and uninjured.

The cock inside him twitches as he holds Howard.

Parsley's body is completely healthy.

"No, Howard. It's a dream I've been having. I don't know if it really happened but I think maybe it did... and I'm glad," Vince admitted. It was silly to blush but Vince couldn't help himself, "You're safe with me in our hotel room. Maybe you were having a bad dream?"

Howard's expression darkened and his eyes began to shift nervously.

"S'okay, Howard. I invited you, right?"

"I thought this was all just part of my, well, my going insane in that cave. I thought it would be over when I was safe."

Vince tried to keep his hips still but Howard was right where Vince had wanted him for so long.

"You're safe, Howard. I don't know why this is happening but... Can't we just enjoy it?"

Howard looked down at where their bodies were joined before trying and failing to look Vince in the eye.

"I've never... Not properly. Not for real."

Vince grinned, "That's why it's perfect! It's just a dream n'all so it don't really count. It's just whatever you want it to be."

"What do you want it to be?" Howard asked, for once not avoiding Vince's eyes.

"You know what I want," Vince purred, "I've wanted it for ages."

Howard's eyes widened. Vince wasn't sure if it was a good or bad sign, not until he kissed Howard. As soon as their lips met, Howard began to move. He was more awkward than the blissed out Parsley and much more desperate. Vince gripped Howard's shoulders, pressing his feet into the bed to meet each thrust.

"S'mazing, Howard. So good," Vince mumbled, "You can go faster. Harder."

"Does it hurt?" Howard asked. His eyes were squeezed shut in concentration, "I'm afraid I'll hurt you. I don't want to hurt you."

"It don't hurt. It can be well painful but when you take your time, like you did... like Parsley did, it feels so good," Vince lost the ability to speak when Howard changed his angle just a little and sent Vince a good two years into the future. Howard tried a few more times to make sure Vince wasn't uncomfortable but Vince couldn't manage anything more than obscene moans as he held onto Howard for dear life. When Howard's thrusts started to getting less even (and his words less coherent and more obscene), Vince reached between their sweaty bodies to help himself along.

"Christ, Vince, you're so..."

He would have loved to hear the rest of the sentence but he was too busy wrapping his legs around Howard's waist to pull him in just a little deeper as his orgasm built. It was Howard's orgasm that sent him over the edge, the way his face contorted and his whole body stiffened but he barely made a noise. Vince came as Howard pulsed inside of him.

xxx

That part of the male brain that sometimes does, but often does not, wake him up before he comes in his pants had utterly failed Vince. Howard was sitting up in bed, panting and red faced. He looked like his brain had failed as well.

"All right?" Vince asked.

Howard didn't answer.

"I'll get us some new jammies," Vince offered, trying to sound casual, "Good thing they have laundry facilities at this hotel."

For the first time since the rescue, Howard's smile reached his eyes. It was fleeting and Howard quickly reverted to a near blank stare but Vince had seen it and it filled him with joy.

And hope.


	18. Chapter 18

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: angst, schmaltz, references to self-harm/suicide

Summary: The Return of Naboo and Bollo

Author's note: Life in general and computers, specifically, have been getting in the way of my writing. I have two very sick laptops who need computer hospital as soon as my car is working... I'll just bum myself out if I talk about it! Here's a chapter, sorry it took so long!

Disclaimer: To quote the Talking Heads, "Always for love, never for money". I don't own the Boosh but I do love them.

Vince eyed row upon row of leggings, some in colors he'd never even seen before - not even in his dreams!

And they were all buy one get on free.

"Vince!"

Howard was screaming at him. Howard couldn't hate Top Shop _that_ much.

"Vince!"

Vince tried to at least get a few pairs to the cashier before Howard dragged him out of the shop, but the floor began to move. An Earthquake in London?

"Vince!"

He opened his eyes. Howard was shaking him roughly by the shoulders, tears streaming down his bruised face.

"Vince? Vince, can you hear me?" Howard wasn't yelling any more, he was whispering as he brushed at the tangled hair covering Vince's face.

"What's wrong, Howard?" Vince whispered back, looking around their hotel room for the source of danger. If it was Old Gregg, they were all done with wearing white hats. Vince would beat the funky merman to death with a shoe if he had to. He was tired of being scared.

Howard was holding him tightly, his lips pressed to Vince's neck. Normally, Vince had a pretty good idea what to do when he was locked in a passionate embrace in someone's bed. There was nothing normal about this.

"Are... are you... okay?" Vince asked, hesitantly. It was the cave all over again. Howard was there but he wasn't _there_. He wasn't Howard.

"Tell me you're okay, tell me he didn't hurt you," Howard pleaded between kisses to Vince's neck, "Please, Vince, promise you're all right and this isn't the part that's a dream."

Vince gently stroked Howard's hair, reminding himself that nearly every inch of Howard was injured, "I'm fine, Howard. Did you have a bad dream?"

They had left the bathroom light on and the door open, so Vince could clearly see Howard scrambling back to his side of the bed, shaking his head.

"Howard?" He was afraid to even move towards his friend without permission. Howard had always needed more space than Vince.

"Vince... It was just a dream. I'm find. Go back to sleep, I didn't mean to wake you... I was confused." Howard's voice was shaking and so were his hands.

"S'all right, Howard. I wish... Tell me about it, it might help."

Howard stared at his hands and shook his head.

"Was it... was it about my neck?"

Howard's shaky hands moved to his head and Howard was silently sobbing, the tension in his hands showing how hard he was trying to hold himself together.

"I'm fine. No one hurt me, see? I'm fine." Vince didn't know what to do with his hands. He wanted to hold Howard so much.

Howard angrily wiped at the tears on his face, "It was just a stupid dream. I'm fine. You need some rest..."

Vince lost his resolve to not touch Howard without permission, but tried to keep his touch as non-threatening as possible. He kissed Howard's knee cap.

Howard's gaze moved slowly from his knee to Vince's face, he looked terrified.

"S'all right, everything is fine. I'm here now. I'm sorry I didn't help you in your dream..."

"You were... Old Gregg..." Howard took a deep breath and started again, "Your eyes were closed and I thought you were asleep but your neck. There was so much blood."

"Oh, Howard. The Star Turtle and Sally are lookin' out for us. Nothin's gonna hurt you anymore. If anyone tried, they'd have to go through me..."

"No!" Howard yelled before composing himself, "No, Vince. Promise me that if they come back, you'll take care of yourself, yeah? Believe me, Little Man, I'd go back with them in a heartbeat rather than see you..."

Vince thought of all the horrible words that might end that sentence.

"Tell me how to make you feel safe," Vince suggested, squeezing Howard's big toe, "I don't want to do anything, you know, that'll make it worse. I just want to take care of you."

Howard's face was hidden by his hair but his hands were still shaking.

"I love you, Howard. I want to help but I don't know what to do," Vince admitted. He considered calling Sally. She knew everything.

Howard slowly eased himself down until he was lying on the bed, facing Vince. Vince imitated him so they were face to face but not touching.

Howard's eyes were squeezed closed as he admitted, "I'm not sure. I'm not good at this sort of thing."

"Things like... knowing what will make you feel safe?" Vince asked, expecting Howard to correct him but Howard nodded his head.

"I never sucked my thumb or had a teddy. Mum said I never took to stuffed animals or lovies or rubber comforters. Babies are meant to learn to self-sooth..."

Vince had had an army of stuffed creatures to protect him from the monsters under his bed and a blanket that doubled as a magic force field.

When Vince brushed the hair from Howard's face, Howard's eyes shot open and scanned Vince's face, nervously.

Touching wasn't soothing to Howard, it never had been.

"Do you know what it means, to miss New Orleans? When that's where you left your heart..." Vince sang softly, relishing the smile that came to Howard's lips.

"Jazz?"

"Pioneering pop music. Louis Armstrong was the Bowie of his time," Vince corrected, trying to look serious before continuing, "I know I'm not wrong, the feelings getting stronger, the longer I stay away. Miss them moss covered vines, the tall sugar pines, where mocking birds used to sing..."

Howard closed his eyes and slept. It took Vince longer to relax. He compromised between his need to hold his Howard and Howard's need for personal space. He held Howard's hand, running his thumb over Howard's knuckles until he was able to sleep himself.

xxx

It takes a lot to get kicked out of Brazil during Carnival. Naboo was almost proud. He turned on his cell phone as the Voo-Doo council escorted him and Bollo to their magic carpet.

"Puritans!" he yelled as they took off for London. There were dozens of messages from Vince.

"Hey, Naboolio! Just a small thing. I think Howard's been kidnapped. Call me!" 

"Hi. I'm pretty sure Howard was kidnapped by Old Gregg. Wish you were here."

"Naboo? I know you are on vacation but..." The rest of the message was undecipherable as Vince began to cry. Some of the messages were nothing but Vince sobbing.

They changed course to America.

xxx

They didn't have much luggage so Bollo could carry it easily. He didn't even need his inhaler. They knew from Vince's messages that Howard was recued but injured and refusing medical treatment. Naboo had dropped by "Shame'n'Shop", a store in the French Quarter carrying magic potions and sex toys.

Standing at the door, Bollo was confused by what he was smelling. He could smell fear, shame, pain, semen, Root Booster shampoo and turtle.

Vince yanked the door open before throwing himself at Naboo and Bollo for a group hug.

"You came! Genius!"

Vince and Howard were in matching pajama tops with mis-matched bottoms and only one bed was rumpled. Howard was sitting up in bed, the blankets pulled up to his chin and his hair hiding his face. His smell was all wrong and put Bollo on edge, more so than usual. Naboo said Howard was agitating because he was perpetually conflicted and hard to read. That and he was a ball bag.

Naboo was already walking towards Howard, moving slowly and cautiously.

"Howard?" Naboo said quietly.

Howard lifted his head. His face was swollen and bruised. Bollo wasn't happy to know the smell of Vince and Howard's semen, but they shared a bathroom. A familiar always knew more than he needed to, it was part of living on a higher life plane. He couldn't imagine a scenario that would lead gentle Vince to exchange bodily fluids with Howard in his current state.

"Naboo, Bollo... how was Brazil?" Howard asked in a strangled voice. His weak attempt at friendliness gave Bollo a bad feeling. He couldn't quite place what was wrong but something was Wrong with Howard.

"Howard, I need you to listen carefully," Naboo continued quietly. When Howard leaned slightly towards Naboo, he ended up with a face full of Euphorika - a powder that made humans euphoric and worked as a tasty dry rub for most game meats.

Howard giggled and collapsed back on the bed.

"Ow," Howard laughed, "That really hurt! I think I might have a broken rib."

Naboo wasted no time, he was already rubbing a balm into Howard's swollen cheek.

"What're ya doin'?" Vince asked, smelling nervous.

"He won't let me help him without some convincing. He'll be more agreeable now," Naboo explained, "but it won't last long."

Vince jumped on the bed and took Howard's hand, "Naboo is going to help you, Howard, and I'm going to be here the whole time. Don't be scared."

"Why would I be afraid of Naboo?" Howard asked, "He's adorable! I want to pick him up and stick him in my pocket."

Bollo watched with horror as Howard rubbed Naboo's turban before turning back to Vince.

"My, god, you are so beautiful. Every time I think maybe you and me..." Howard trailed off into giggles, "What are you doing, Naboo?"

Bollo could usually read his Shaman like a Charlie book but at the moment, he was truly an enigma.

"There's bacteria in your wounds, you're dehydrated, you're anemic, you've got two fractured ribs..."

Howard giggled through Naboo's litany of illnesses, "Bacteria? Of course, I'm filled with diseases! You do know what I've been doing? I've been..."

Vince was actually covering Howard's mouth with his hands, begging him to stop talking.

Bollo pulled Vince into his lap, grooming the human as though that will remove the unpleasant smell of fear and anxiety from his body. Bollo does not understand the violence of the human world - the motivations are too strange and convoluted for him to grasp (though being intoxicated helps). What he knows is someone wanted Howard's companionship - strange - and tried to make Howard give up his bond with Vince - impossible - so now Howard was sick.

Naboo, very quietly, asked Howard to turn over. This elicited an hysterical laugh from Howard and sent Vince jumping out of Bollo's lap and on to the bed.

"S'okay, Howard. Naboo is going to fix you up, quick smart..." 

"And then I'll be fine," Howard giggled, "Right, Vince? A few potions and I'll be right as rain. Normal, healthy, happy Howard."

Vince is still trying to shush the larger man, clearly upset though Bollo doesn't understand why. Howard seems to be taking things well.

Howard kissed Vince's palms, even now he was easily stronger than his smaller companion, "It's all right, Vince. You know you'll be better off without me, Little Man. You'll be happier."

"Naboo is making you better, you aren't going anywhere." Vince is trying not to cry but Howard is chuckling.

"Oh, Vince, you're such a little ball of sunshine, even when you're crying. There are things that can't be fixed, yeah? But you don't need to be sad, it'll all be fine in the end. You've got Naboo and Bollo, all your friends - now you have Sally. Just trust me, Vince, you'll be better off. I saved all the money Bryan ever sent, so you needn't be worried..."

"If you go away, I will never be happy again, Howard. There will be nothing and no one that can make me smile again if you're gone," Vince says in a surprisingly firm tone. Howard is smiling and shaking his head, but he's listening. Naboo is working quickly, faster than Bollo has ever seen, while still carefully observing the interaction between the humans.

Bollo isn't good with metaphors but he thinks he understands why Naboo used the Euphorika instead of just knocking Howard unconscious with Thoughtsbegone (which was considerably cheaper and also tasted good on a nice piece of fish). Naboo said the poison had to come out of Howard or he'd never heal.


	19. Chapter 19

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: angst, references to self-harm, references to non-con

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Summary: The healing continues

Author's note: What? Another chapter already? Yup. Thank you to those who keep hanging on!

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I just want to see them snuggle.

Howard hadn't been touched_ there_ very often. The occasional doctor, the one time Tommy had tried...

Howard giggled at the memory. Tiny Tommy doing his best to get something started with his mentee. He'd assumed the teenaged Howard knew something of the world. What a laugh.

Eleanor had tried.

Howard giggled again. Eleanor had been his big chance, he could have finally lost his virginity to someone, but he'd passed. He'd been holding out hope that Vince was still interested despite all his jokes about Howard's crow's feet, thin hair and dress sense. He thought his first time could still be special and not humiliating.

Howard laughed so hard, his ribs hurt.

Poor Naboo was trying to help with his potions, trying to remove the poison in Howard.

"Try to relax, Howard. This cream's got unicorn tears and some powered eye of newt. It's powerful but it needs to be applied topically." Naboo said, his fingers slow and gentle but unable to make progress. Relaxing had never been Howard's strong suit. He'd been able to relax for Old Gregg though.

His laughter only makes it worse, he can't stop tensing his body at the intrusion.

"Vince, maybe he can relax for you. I thought the Euphorika would be enough."

It takes him a moment to decipher the words.

Of course, Vince would try, because Vince needed ANOTHER reason to be disgusted at the sight of Howard.

"I'm not disgusted... Howard, there's nothin' 'bout you that's disgustin'. Nothin'."

Vince's voice was firm and Howard tried to wrap his mind around the words, there was something wrong with the statement.

Vince's fingers seemed to meet no resistance. Why should they? Who would refuse the beautiful Vince Noir?

"You've been resistin' me for years, Howard," Vince countered with a weak laugh.

"Am I talking out loud?"

"I guess. I mean, you just said somethin' out loud then," Vince sounded confused. His fingers moved easily inside of Howard, there was no pain or discomfort. Everything about Vince was perfect.

"I ain't perfect, Howard."

Howard couldn't disagree because Naboo was shoving something under his tongue, "The Euphorika is wearing off. Hold you mouth shut until the leaves dissolve. It's a long lasting pain reliever. It's what I gave Lester Corncake when he got beheaded."

It finally occurred to Howard that Vince wasn't a psychic, he was simply responding to the things Howard was saying out loud.

Fuck. What had he been saying?

"Calm down, Howard," Vince purred, stroking Howard's sorry excuse for hair, "Stay relaxed so I can get my fingers out without hurtin' ya."

Vince was careful as he pulled Howard's clothes back in place. Shame was working its way back into Howard's brain, killing the laughter that had been bubbling in his chest. Vince tucked blankets around him, creating a little cocoon for Howard. Tears were coming and all Howard could do was bury his face in his pillow, wishing Naboo and Bollo would leave. He couldn't face them, people who barely liked him knowing what he had done, seeing him so weak and useless. At least Vince cared.

"I can't fix everyfing," Naboo explained, "but you should feel better. There's nothin' left that's gonna kill ya."

Howard could feel his face going red before Naboo whispered, "So stop finkin' that way. You can't leave Vince. You wanna hear the voice mails he left me while you was missin'? What you do to yerself, you'll being doin' to him."

"Thanks for your help, Naboo. I... I do appreciate it. I feel much better," Howard said, clearing his throat several times. He did feel better, physically.

"Now take this," Naboo ordered, shoving a capsule in Howard's mouth. It dissolved almost instantly.

"What was that?" he asked, moving his jaw back and forth. His tongue felt funny.

"It's a mild euphoria inducing drug."

"Are there more... treatments you need to do?" Howard asked, his chest clenching at the idea.

"No, but it'll make this less disturbing."

Howard was about to ask what Naboo meant when he was dragged into Bollo's lap for a thorough grooming.

xxx

Howard wasn't alone, someone was pressed up against him, an erection pressed into his lower back. His sick feeling turned to joy when he opened his eyes and saw the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen - hideous hotel wallpaper.

There were only a few aches and pains as he moved to look at the person holding him. He saw Vince's sleepy smile, easily replacing the wallpaper as the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Vince blinked a few times and then looked alarmed, "Sorry, Howard!" he cried as he disentangled himself from Howard.

"I don't mind, Little Man," Howard said honestly, "Not as long as it's you."

Vince tried to run his fingers through his tangled hair, "I must look a fright."

"You look beautiful," Howard said without thinking, immediately regretting the words as Vince went red and began fussing with his hair in earnest. Vince didn't belong in all this ugliness. "I mean, you look fine. What time is it? And day? Month while we're at it?"

Vince grinned from ear to ear, "It's Mardi Gras! It's the day to go crazy, flash your tits for some beads..."

Vince suddenly looked serious.

"What's wrong, Little Man?"

Vince fluffed his hair until his face was nearly hidden, "It's just... I had this plan that I was gonna tell you, you know, that I fancied you... that I loved you on Mardi Gras. I thought it might be symbolic and all that."

Howard wanted to deny it, accuse Vince of lying, of trying to make Howard feel better. It took all his self-control to just keep his mouth shut. Vince didn't need his neuroses, he'd been through enough.

"I should have just told you on New Year's Eve," Vince was tugging at his sleeves, "I thought I needed to prove myself to you. If I'd..."

Vince looked miserable and it was a physical pain to Howard to see Vince unhappy.

"It was my fault, Vince, I didn't know how to respond..."

"Please tell the truth, Howard," Vince pleaded, his eyes locked on Howard's, "If I'd said something the night they took you, if I'd said I fancied you and didn't want you to sleep with that girl... would you have stayed with me?"

Howard chose his words carefully, he tried to meet Vince's eyes but it was a struggle.

"Of course, I would have stayed with you. I... care about you. A great deal. I wouldn't have gone with the Hitcher then but he still would have found me. That wasn't your fault, Vince. Don't even think like that. They wouldn't have given up. What matters is you found me, yeah? Thank you, Vince, for not giving up on me."

Vince gave a weak smile, "I'd never give up on you. It was hard, not havin' Naboo around. If I hadn't found Sally... I can't think about that."

Howard put his hand on Vince's shoulder. Vince nuzzled his cheek against Howard's hand like a cat.

"Bryan Ferry, Lil' Wayne, Slash, the Star Turtle and Marie Laveau all jumped in to help you, Vince. Your charm has kept me alive for nearly two decades," Howard teased, wishing he were better at being comforting.

Vince gave a half-hearted smile, "I just wish I were smarter. I wish I had been able to figure things out faster. I couldn't even see the entrance to the cave until the Star Turtle told me to look..."

Howard pulled Vince into an awkward hug. Vince sighed happily and snuggled into Howard's chest as Howard tried to sort out where to put his arms. Hugging was just one of the many things that seemed to come natural to everyone but Howard.

"It's like I've told you since you were a little muppet, you are clever. Your brain just works a little differently than most," Howard explained. He'd hated tutoring before Vince. He resented all those normal homes and caring parents - the bratty little children who couldn't be bothered to crack a book and make an effort. The Noirs should have been the worst. They were all so damned happy and loving and their house was so cozy and inviting. It had all annoyed Howard until he'd seen the fear in little Vince's eyes as he opened his text book. There was suddenly a hint of panic in his over-sized peepers and a touch of desperation in his childish jokes. Howard had gained (if not truly earned) a lifetime of respect from Vince for identifying his dyslexia. If Howard had a true gift, it was the ability to see misery and it had been the pain in Vince's eyes that told him something was wrong while the rest of the world only saw a hyperactive child with too much imagination.

"So... you think my brain works?" Vince teased, "You can't take it back."

"You may only have the one brain cell, but it is remarkable."

"Cheers, Howard."

Howard gently worked his fingers through the tangles in Vince's hair, feeling more at ease with a task to perform. Vince was nearly purring.

"It's Mardi Gras, we're in the Big Easy... What should we do?" Howard asked. The idea of leaving his hotel room was a touch... terrifying, but he wanted to do something normal. Something that would take the anxiety out of Vince's eyes.

"Sally has reservations at the Court of Two Sisters for the jazz brunch. She booked a year in advance but two people dropped out..."

Howard had to laugh at Vince's perpetual good luck, "That sounds... genius."

"We need to shower though," Vince said with a laugh, "We smell like monkey and cheap cologne."

"It's not that cheap," Howard said with feigned irritation, "It cost more than I planned on spending Bollo for Christmas."

"Do you... I won't try anything on, I just don't want to be away from you."

xxx

The second shower was more relaxed and playful than the first. Howard felt a stirring as he detangled Vince's hair that made him uncomfortable but also filled him with relief. Vince was careful to give him his space and the obvious effort tore at Howard's heart but he had to admit, he needed the space. He hoped there would come a day when he wouldn't.

He was feeling almost normal as he climbed out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel, but then he felt Vince's eyes on him and he felt self-conscious.

"It's rude to stare," Howard said with false gruffness.

Vince bit his lip and looked at his feet.

"I'm teasing, Little Man. What's wrong?"

"It's just... I'm not good with words," Vince blushed as he spoke, "You... I just think you're beautiful is all. Now help me pick out some clothes."

Vince bounded away like a rabbit being chased by a hound and Howard was left alone with Vince's words echoing in his brain.

HowaoHo


	20. Chapter 20

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: heavy drinking, drunken snogging, language, English stereotyping, gross novelty tee-shirts

Summary: It's Mardi Gras.

Author's note: Kind of a linky bit, and there's _another_ original character. Thank you if you're still reading. Comments are welcomed, loved even.

An AMAZING piece of art was created for the chapter 18 scene where Vince sings to Howard by

.

Check it out, its gorgeous.

Howard was surprisingly amiable. Vince expected his traumatized friend to want to stay in the hotel or maybe try and find and earlier flight home but instead, Howard said he was looking forward to the Court of Two Sisters and even went on (and on) about what he had read in the guide book. All Vince needed to know was they served mimosas and had a dessert table. There would be jazz , but with enough champagne and sugar, Vince could just pretend he was in an elevator. He would have done whatever Howard wanted to do, of course. Every time he looked at the Northerner, he felt almost dizzy with relief. Their night had been interrupted with dreams, nightmares and flatmates but for the first time in days, Vince had been happy to face a new day. He fought the urge to hug Howard at every turn and focused on picking out a proper Mardi Gras outfit. He settled on a sequined gold top with black leggings and gold boots. Howard had applauded his restraint but, in reality, Vince was planning on acquiring accessories throughout the day. Sally said there would be plenty of parades and, of course, there would be Bourbon St.

Howard was wearing a few too many clothes for Mardi Gras but Vince wasn't about to say a word. He was glad that Howard was interested in the Mardi Gras celebration. He'd been so excited before things went wrong. Naturally, Howard was excited about all the wrong things like history and second lines but that would all be woven in with the bright colors and alcohopops. As long as Howard was still interested in jazz and other things that people liked before television was invented, he had to be doing all right.

Vince would never claim to be intelligent but he could earn an advanced degree in Howard. He didn't hear what Naboo said to Howard, but he'd seen the guilty look on his friend's face. If Howard was going anywhere, he was going to have to go through Vince or take him along. He wasn't going to be alone ever again. It was a double act or nothing. Vince had been to monkey hell, he wasn't afraid.

"That's a good color on you, Howard," Vince acknowledged, eyeing Howard's mustard rollneck, "It brings out your eyes."

Howard looked uncomfortable but made a joke about accessorizing with a couple of magnifying glasses to get Vince's bushbaby look.

"You laugh but the bushbaby is known for its style and panache. Imagine wearing fur all the time? They don't care about gettin' a little paint thrown on them by activists."

"There ain't no such thing as politically correct in the animal kingdom," Howard agreed. Vince could hear the creaks and grinds in their banter that hadn't been there since... well, they had been there after Howard returned from Denmark. Maybe they had been there before Denmark, after Howard's party.

Vince didn't want to think about that.

"Tonight is going to be genius! You and me and Sally and some girl Sally works with paintin' the town red..."

"Or gold," Howard suggested, waving at Vince's outfit.

"We could paint it an aggressive muffin," Vince suggested, "This might one of the few places in the world that could do with being a bit more boring."

Howard smiled wanly, "True, Little Man."

Vince gave in and wrapped his arms around Howard, who was stiff but didn't pull away.

"I'm so glad you're back, Howard," Vince said directly into Howard's sweater, "I missed you so much."

"It was only a few days," protested Howard, "and you made lots of new friends..."

"No one else in the whole wide world is you, Howard."

Howard detangled himself and gave Vince's shoulder a pat, "Um, thank you, Vince. No one else is you, as well. Either? You know what I mean."

Howard cast a nervous look at Vince as though he wasn't quite sure Vince did understand.

Vince smiled and lightly kissed Howard on the cheek, "No one else is us."

xxx

Despite the past few days, Sally still expected the laws of space and time to hold - even when it came to Vince and Howard. She did a double take and struggled to compose herself when she saw Howard. He was still banged up but he looked as though weeks had gone by, rather than hours. There were only a few visible cuts and bruises, like Howard had taken a bad fall. Sally tried to make her face neutral but she could see Howard tense and retreat into himself. Vince reached out like he was going to grab Howard's arm but turned it into simply flicking some imaginary lint off of Howard's shirt. Vince's touchy feely nature had made Sally uncomfortable that first night, until she realized he was not coming on to her - he was just a tactile person. From what she understood, Howard was not a tactile person at the best of times and yet, he was hovering over Vince and not actually moving away from Vince's animated hands. He wore the expression of someone preparing to get a vaccination but he stood his ground. Sally thought it was sweet.

And heartbreakingly sad.

When Kylie and Sally had booked the brunch, they both had girlfriends. Sally had been vague in describing Howard and Vince, letting Kylie know roughly what Howard had been through minus all the Voo-doo, monsters and celebrity cameos. Kylie was a sweet person who had spent a lot of time working with Katrina survivors so Sally knew she would be able to handle the situation better than most people. She also knew Kylie and Vince would probably end up exchanging at least one piece of clothing before the evening was out.

"I'm so glad you guys could join us!" Kylie bubbled, after being introduced, "I'm posting pictures of us on-line and saying I've gone back to men! My ex will be so pissed."

"We can trade shirts!" Vince exclaimed, stroking the fabric of Kylie's gold lame halter. Howard stood back and watched Kylie and Vince fawn over one another. Sally wanted to say something to put him at ease but nothing came to mind. She was grateful when Kylie turned to Howard and squealed, "You've got a gold top, too! Now if we can get Ms. Business Casual here to loosen up, we can have a real Mardi Gras up in here."

Sally had worn a purple tank top with a subtle bead embroidery specifically so Kylie wouldn't yell at her for her boring dress sense. She frowned at her outfit as Kylie and Vince chattered on.

"I think it's a nice top," Howard said softly.

"I like your turtleneck," Sally responded, "A light fabric to keep you cool but also protect against melanoma."

xxx

Howard brightened noticeably when the band started playing. The Court of Two Sisters was packed as usual and Howard had gone a bit pale at the suggestion he should go to the buffet. Kylie announced she would get their food since Howard and Vince weren't just white, they were English and needed to tread carefully lest they lose their accents. Howard happily agreed and promptly downed a mimosa.

"So Naboo and Bollo are in town?" Sally asked, trying to make small talk.

Howard went red in the face but Vince grinned.

"Yeah! It was perfect timing. They got thrown out of Brazil by the Voo-doo council for bein' well obscene or somethin' like that. Naboo is a genius!"

Vince turned to Howard and placed his hand on Howard's cheek for a moment before yanking it back like he'd been burned. Howard drained his second glass and gave Vince an awkward pat on the shoulder.

"We're going to meet up later for the St. Anne's parade. You and Kylie should come! She is well cool," Vince said, his face lighting up at Howard's touch.

Sally almost asked how a gorilla would get away with walking the streets but then realized it was an asinine question. Maybe Kylie was right, maybe she was getting boring.

Kylie arrived with two heaping plates.

"So I got you guys a bunch of roast beef, you people like roast beef, right?" Kylie asked with exaggerated concern as she gave them their plates. Sally was glad Kylie had heeded her advice on skipping the turtle soup, "There's duck a l'orange, shrimp etouffee, jambalaya... I forget what the rest is but it's all good. Save room for dessert though. As we say, 'Lazy bon temps ruler!'."

Howard pushed the food around on his plate but only ate what Vince shoved in his mouth. Sally wondered if Vince was doing it on purpose. He was so full of kinetic energy, it was hard to tell. Vince was even more effervescent and charming with his Howard at his side, something Sally hadn't considered possible. Kylie was covering everything in hot sauce and keeping the mimosas coming.

"My mouth is on fire!" Kylie cried.

"Quit using so much hot sauce! Eat some bread," Sally suggested, trying to be practical. Kylie and Vince shared a look of long-suffering. They shared a similar look when Vince was complaining of feeling ill as he ate his King cake.

"You don't have to eat every dessert," Howard chided.

Vince looked Howard in the eye and said, "Lazy good times rule!"

Kylie and Vince attempted a fist bump and missed. Sally wondered if there hadn't been a few too many mimosas for brunch.

xxx

Bollo propped Howard against a wall and ran back into the crowd to catch more beads. Howard was grateful for the cold, hard brick at his back. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so pissed.

Probably the night he'd brought Vince home in a wheelbarrow.

As though reading his mind, Vince was suddenly in his face whispering, "You know you want it, you dirty girls. Cheeky vixens..."

Howard laughed, his heart was racing and he felt dizzy. Some of that was the tremendous amount of alcohol he'd consumed in the past few hours.

Some of it was just Vince.

"Check out Sally and her 'friend' Kylie," Vince yelled, going on tip-toe to reach Howard's ear. He placed one hand on Howard's chest for balance. "Should I remind her she doesn't get involved with coworkers?"

Sally and Kylie were snogging in an alcove like teenagers. Kylie's hand was moving under Sally's - well, Vince's - top. Howard turned away, embarrassed to see something so personal. Even if it was happening on a public street in a massive crowd in the daylight.

Vince was wearing Kylie's gold lame top and Kylie had fashioned Howard's Hawaiian shirt into a head dress for Vince. Sally's head scarf was now Howard's jaunty neckerchief.

"I think we've all had a bit too much," Howard said as he closed his eyes, feeling over stimulated.

"That's what Mardi Gras is all about!" Vince cried, his breath on Howard's face, "Goin' large so you can be good for the next forty days. Or just keep goin' large if you ain't Catholic. I don't know. Even C of E was too structured for my folks."

Howard laughed and thought of his own parents. They had tried on religions like hats but never found one that suited their lifestyle.

"Were you really going to say something..." Howard fished for words but none came. His vocabulary was drenched in rum.

"What?"

"You said you wanted to say that you fancied me..."

"Oh, yeah!" Vince yelled, "I was gonna tell you durin' a parade like this while we were kind of pissed. Then you'd have the rest of the night to sober up and decide..."

Vince trailed off and linked his fingers with Howard's.

Howard didn't open his eyes and, at first, he just got a mouthful of hair but soon enough, his lips found Vince's.

xxx

Sally was feeling indestructible. She and Vince had decided to either have a show about fighting crime called Blanc & Noir, or they were actually just going to fight crime. They had really been focused more on the hair and costume than the details.

Kylie and Vince were tongue kissing for beads. If the men realized Vince was a man, they didn't seem to care. They still yelled when he flashed his tits.

Howard's face was unreadable and his eyes were glazed over.

Sally was trying to think of something reassuring to say when they both jumped at the sound of Kylie yelling.

"You need to leave that girl alone before I come over there with my girl and teach you some manners. I'm an angry black lesbian but she's fucking militant!"

Sally tried to stand up straight and look intimidating.

Howard whispered, "Don't count on help from Bollo, he's asthmatic."

"You don't wanna fuck with me!" Sally yelled, still not sure who she was protecting from whom. Lots of men were looking scared.

"Yeah!" Vince added, moving into the sidekick stance they had practiced earlier - pressing his hip to her's, "And she's a certified muff diver!"

Sally looked down on her tee-shirt, proclaiming her certification, "Oh, hell. How long have I been wearing this?"

xxx

Howard was drinking a glass of water and feeling paranoid. Alcohol had ceased to have its mind-numbing effect and his thoughts were racing. He was jammed between Vince and Bollo in the booth of a pizza shop. There was no reason for him not to feel safe. Even in their shambolic state, Sally and Kylie seemed pretty hard. Bollo was off his tits and Naboo had vomited in his turban, but there was still safety in numbers.

"Howard was my tutor when I was little so I've fancied him since I was old enough to fancy people..."

"I love that word! Fancy," Kylie sighed, "It sounds so... fancy."

Vince giggled and leaned into Howard, who didn't have room to move away even if he'd wanted to.

"When did you start to fancy Vince?" Kylie asked, her eyes warm and dark like coffee. Howard needed coffee.

"I'd rather not talk about that..."

"C'mon, Howard! When did you start to think of me 'that way'?" Vince asked, his face beaming. The was wearing Howard's Hawaiian shirt over his borrowed Certified Muff Diver tee-shirt. The shirt was unreadable under all his beads but it still made Howard smile. Vince was a sweaty mess from dancing and drinking, his make-up streaked and his hair limp and tangled. Howard thought he looked beautiful.

Howard shook his head, "I don't like to think about it. You were so much younger than I."

"I was having sex with men older than you when I was fifteen! What's five years?" Vince turned to Kylie and stage whispered, "I was probably the only guy in London askin' to be called 'Little Man' in bed."

Kylie laughed appreciatively while Sally wore a cartoonish look of surprise. Howard could tell by the back of Vince's head that his flat mate was wearing a similar expression. Vince always froze when he was embarrassed.

Howard wasn't sure how he felt about the piece of information. On one hand, it was a terrible defilement of an innocent pet name. On the other hand, Vince had been thinking about Howard. He desperately wanted coffee to help focus his thoughts, but settled for a swig of Bollo's energy drink. It tasted like monkey breath and Bollo hadn't even taken a drink yet.

When he turned back to Vince, they bumped heads. Vince's eyes were wide and worried looking. Howard stroked Vince's sweaty, tangled hair, "What's wrong, Little Man?"

Howard blushed when Kylie giggled. Vince nuzzled his face into Howard's shoulder, "Don't change your mind about me."

Howard held the younger man tight, "That will _never_ happen."

"Let's go back to the hotel," Vince whispered.


	21. Chapter 21

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: R

Warnings: fairly explicit sex, language, reference violence and non-con, angsty angst

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Summary: Howard and Vince go back to their room and try to work on their communication skills.

Author's note: VInce went rogue on me here and has thrown me a bit off track but I think he made the right call. Thank you to everyone who is reading this and special love to those who comment. I want you to know your comments really mean a lot to me and even if they don't contain criticism, it's still so helpful for me to just know what works and doesn't and what really sticks out for people.

Disclaimer: The Boosh belong to themselves and they are wonderful. I don' know why I want to hurt them in my stories.

Howard kept pulling back, not quite ending the kiss or leaving Vince's embrace, just sort of wriggling about and being generally difficult.

"What's wrong?" Vince panted. He began kissing his way down Howard's neck so the big man could have his mouth free to answer. Howard seemed to be sweating rum. It was with a touch of regret that he removed Howard's neckerchief. It was good to see the big man accessorize.

"Nothing, just... we should lock the door. Maybe turn on the lights and have a look around..."

Vince slapped himself on the forhead before turning on the lights.

"Sorry, Howard," he apologized. He'd been so eager to get back to snogging, he'd again forgotten he was supposed to be taking care of Howard, not just giving him a feel up against the door of their hotel room. Vince double locked the door and checked the bathroom and under both beds, while Howard remained leaning against the door.

"S'all right, Howard. Don't think anyone's been in here but the maid," Vince said, stroking Howard's arms.

Howard had gone red and was staring at the floor, and Vince shifted from one foot to the other - hoping for a clue as to how to proceed. He wanted to go back to touching Howard but was afraid of seeming too aggressive or of making Howard feel like was 'expecting' something. He'd be happy just snogging Howard until they fell asleep. Then they could wake up and start all over again, stopping only for some food and maybe some chapstick.

"I know there's no one here," Howard explained without looking up, "I'm just feeling a little paranoid. Shocker, that, I know."

"You _should _be paranoid!_ I_ should be paranoid! I don't know why but... I just feel sure that Old Gregg's going to leave us alone and that the Hitcher... well, I don't imagine he's gonna get up to much of anything for a while. I know it's a bit daft but I think Old Gregg really loves you in his own way. Even sometimes when you were dreaming..."

Vince lost his train of thought when Howard began shaking, "S'all right, Howard. You're safe and soon we'll be home and everything will be..."

He couldn't say normal.

"I'm just a bit tired," Howard said, clearly trying to pull himself together, "I'll be fine."

"Do you want to go to sleep? I can sing for you, again. Or do you want a shower first? Some food? We can make some of that disgusting bagged tea."

Vince was again distracted as Howard's lips covered his own. He'd kissed (and done more than kiss) far too many tall men with mustaches, but none of them had ever come close to the real Howard. Howard's kisses were drunken, sloppy, inexperienced and impossibly tender. The hand on the back of his head was gentle and undemanding. It was the first time since his early teens that Vince was snogging for the sake of snogging, not just as foreplay leading up to the main event.

"You are an amazin' kisser, Howard," Vince observed as Howard sucked on his neck, "You're a natural."

Howard chuckled and Vince pressed his face to Howard's chest to feel the rumble. He could feel how hard Howard's heart was pounding.

"I'm sure I've got nothin' on Kylie," Howard teased.

Vince felt a bit queasy and longed to make a joke, but he refused to be distracted this time - even as Howard's hands ran over his lower back and hips.

"I didn't mean anything by that... We were just bein' silly, I wasn't thinkin' 'bout how it would make you feel..."

"I'm not angry, Vince. Kylie's lovely, you looked good together."

"As good as I look with my sexy side kick?" Vince asked, sliding his hand under Howard's rollneck, feeling his stomach.

"As good as Blanc & Noir," Howard agreed. He tensed at VInce's touch but didn't pull away. Vince savored his unrestricted access to Howard's belly, he'd been waiting for a long time.

"I was talking about you, ya berk," Vince teased before pulling Howard down for another kiss.

Feeling Howard's big hands tugging at the hem of his shirt, Vince remembered all the times he had tried to feel this way. All the times he'd tried to imagine what it would feel like to touch Howard and be touched in return.

"I didn't really ask guys to call me Little Man," Vince explained between kisses, "Some of them did cause I talked about you and... I guess I was a bit thick. I didn't realize they were doing it to get a leg over or talk me into things I maybe wouldn't have done with a stranger. I just liked pretending I was with you."

Howard wrapped his arms around Vince tightly, protectively, "I didn't know."

"I just want to make you happy, Howard. I'm sorry I keep messing up. I'm sorry I got pissed instead of taking care of you, I'm sorry I let you drink so much..."

"I'm not a child, Vince. I don't need a minder..."

"But you've been hurt and..." Vince tried to keep his voice steady as the tears came, "I want to take care of you."

"You're always saving me from something..."

"That's not the same! I retrieve you and you... go back to being you. You never let me coddle you a bit or talk about what went on. It's straight back to the banter like nothing happened. Even when I brought you back from Monkey Hell, you wouldn't talk about it afterwards and then I couldn't talk about it..."

Howard was tensing up and Vince could see him pulling into himself. It wouldn't be long before Howard started saying something like, "I'm a man of few words, a serious man..." or some other Howardy bullshit meant to keep Vince at an arm's length.

Howard had been gone for hours before Fossil told Vince that the 'mustach man' was sleeping on the job, handed Vince a stick and sent him to wake Howard up.

The only thing that kept Vince going were the reassuring words of Naboo as he led him away from Howard's body so the medics could do thier job. He kept trying to go back for one more kiss on the cheek, one more apology, and Bambridge was threatening to have him tranquilized.

"You can't get rid of that ballbag that easily," Naboo said in a solemn tone, "He'll be back soon enough. Now where's my walkman? I lent it to you a week ago."

Howard was fussing with his rollneck and hair, subtley sending the message he was not to be touched as he stared over Vince's head.

"What was there to say? It all worked out in the end."

As well as he knew Howard, there were times the Northerner went all cold and Vince was at a loss. If he were sober, Vince probably would have given up and retreated before Howard started to lash out but he was still feeling the effects of countless hurricanes.

And the effect of being being without Howard for nearly a week.

"I know I'm a pain in the arse but if you had to bury me, I think you'd be a bit bothered," Vince said, trying and failing to keep his tone light. Howard looked pained but remained silent and untouchable.

"I promised myself that when I found a way to bring you back that I'd tell you how much I loved you and how I just wanted to be with you and if you didn't want the sex part then maybe we could cuddle sometimes so I didn't have to keep looking for someone else but you kept shutting me down and making jokes..."

"I don't deserve you," Howard said quietly.

"No, but you're stuck with me anyway," Vince teased. Howard gave a weak chuckle that turned into a sob. Vince hovered as the taller man wrapped his arms around himself, like he was trying to literally hold himself together. Vince tried to stroke his arm but Howard whispered, "Don't touch me."

It was like a kick in the gut. Vince watched helplessly as the person he loved more than anyone in the world wept. He wanted to call Sally but he was afraid it would upset Howard even more. Naboo would be useless. Howard's mum certainly didn't know how to cheer her son up. He was always in a frightful mood when they talked.

"Do you know what it means, to miss New Orleans?" Vince sang, his voice sounding weak and fearful to his own ears.

"No!" Howard yelled, slapping his hands over his ears and sliding to the floor. Vince thought over the past few days and tried to remember exactly what it was that Sally did that made Vince feel so much better. He couldn't think of any particular thing and yet she'd saved his sanity.

She was just there. When anyone else would have run away, she was there.

Vince lowered himself to the ground in front of Howard.

"You deserve to be taken care of, Howard. Just 'cause the people 'round you aren't very good at takin' care of you don't mean you don't deserve it."

"Please don't..."

"You deserve to be loved, too, and I love you and I'm glad you're still alive."

Howard was curled up in a ball, fighting so hard not to feel his feelings that it hurt to watch. Vince thought about some of the dreams he'd had while Howard was missing and the things Howard had said under the influence of Euphorika. He felt scared and out of his depth but he pushed on.

"And you deserve to be alive and you don't deserve the things that happened to you."

The way Howard's body tensed told Vince he was on the right track, but he was still afraid. If he was wrong, he'd only make things worse.

"And those things happened to you. Wantin' to stay alive isn't bein' weak, it's bein' human and I'm so glad you're still here. If it happened to me..."

"You don't understand," Howard growled.

"If it happened to me, you wouldn't blame me or think I was..." Vince searched for a word, "damaged. You'd play music that I liked and bake me cakes and boss me around so I'd know you cared and thought I was special."

Howard impatiently wiped at the tears on his face, clearly annoyed by their presence. Vince could hear Howard's thoughts as clearly as if he'd spoken them.

"_But you are special_."

Vince scooted over until he was sitting next to Howard, leaving just a fraction of space between them.

"You _are_ special, Howard. You're the best person I know. You been through everything and survived but you still don't think your special. That is mental. I rode a turtle from outer space to get you back. I wouldn't do that for just anyone."

Howard laughed a little and sniffed, "I was a bit disapointed Dr. John wasn't somehow involved."

"We ain't left the city yet..." without thinking, Vince put his head on Howard's shoulder. He waited to be pushed away but instead, Howard placed his head on Vince's - the way he had on the alligator tour.

Vince was lost in his memories when Howard's mouth closed over his. It was a tenative kiss, as though there could ever be a doubt that Vince wanted a kiss from Howard. Vince kept his own touches light and unthreatening but Howard was already stroking Vince's thigh.

"Do you want to go to the bed?" Howard asked, not quite looking at Vince.

Vince jumped to his feet and pulled Howard up with him.

"'Course I want to go to bed with you! I've always wanted that!" Vince laughed nervously, "I do, you know, want to go to bed with you but, only when you're ready. Don't worry about that, Howard. It's not a big deal."

Howard nodded his head in the over-eager way that meant he had no idea what Vince was saying. Vince would bet money Howard was taking it as some kind of insult.

Vince chucked his beads and boots and struggled out of his tight trousers. Howard was changing into his pajamas on the other side of the bed. There were only thin scars left from his ordeal. Vince could see Old Gregg's fingers digging into Howard's flesh and remembered trying to reassure Howard that he would be all right. After all that had happened, it was still strange to see proof that the dreams had been real.

When Howard caught Vince staring, Vince couldn't stop apologizing, even though it was just making Howard more and more uncomfortable.

Once they were under the covers, Howard quickly resumed their kissing, tugging Vince's shirt up and over his head. Vince was feeling a little unsure of how to procede but Howard was kissing his way down Vince chest at an alarming pace. The first man Vince had ever slept with had a mustache and was from Yorkshire. He'd been old and boring to talk to but it had been so easy to close his eyes and just focus on the feel of a mustach tickling his belly and thighs. It wasn't until Howard planted a warm kiss on Vince's cock through his y-fronts that Vince's brain caught up to the situation at hand.

"Howard, you don't have to..."

"I want to, just relax. I've not done this before," Howard said, softly adding, "Not with anyone."

Vince held Howard's head in place before he could go pack to mouthing Vince through his pants, "Howard, you gotta be honest 'cause I'm not sure. Is this making you feel better or worse?"

Howard didn't meet Vince's eyes but his voice was firm, "I'll feel better if I can make you feel good."

"You always make me feel good," Vince argued, "I'll take a cuddle or some kissin'. Don't have to be sex."

"It would make me feel normal."

Vince released his grip on Howard's head and slowly stroked his wavy dark hair as Howard ran his lips along Vince's erection. Vince was leaking by the time Howard pulled his pants down and took him directly into his mouth.

It had been a long time for Vince. With time, it had gotten harder and harder to pretend other people were Howard. Everything was always wrong because they were strangers. He'd always known sex with Howard would be special because they knew one another so well. They had history. Vince couldn't pretend some guy fucking him with a picture of his allegedly ex-wife still on the bedside was his best friend. A guy from Leeds whispering, "I'm gonna fuck you stupid, Little Man," didn't really capture the feel of what he wanted with Howard.

"I'm almost there," Vince warned after an embarrassingly short period of time, but he had no regrets when he saw the pleased look in Howard's eyes, "You're amazin', Howard. You're so sexy. Okay, Howard, you should stop before I come. Um... nowish."

Howard lowered his lips to the base of Vince's cock and it was all over. Vince couldn't hold off his orgasm, not even thinking about Bob Fossil in a Hawaiian skirt.

Vince tried to watch Howard for signs of distress but it was all a bit too much. When Vince was able to pry his eyes back open, Howard was nervously rubbing at his mustach.

Vince pulled him down on to the bed and kissed him. He was slow as he moved his hand to Howard's cock, checking to make sure Howard was ready for the intimate touch. Howard sighed as Vince wrapped his fingers around the bulge in his pajama pants but got less hard the more VInce stroked him until Vince moved his hand to Howard's hips. Howard squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You're not sorry," Vince said, holding him tight nuzzling his neck, "You're beautiful and special."

"You're a nutter."

"With excellent taste. Unlike you," Vince said with a mock scowl, "Now what musty old jazz song do you want me to sing tonight?"

Howard gave a tiny smile, "Sing me some Bowie."

"Ziggy played guitar, jamming good with Weird and Gilly and the Spiders from Mars..."


	22. Chapter 22

Vince liked watching Howard sleep, all peaceful and relaxed, but he couldn't fight off sleep for long.

Vince was having his hair put into box braids by a marmoset under the watchful eye of Kylie (who was wearing Vince's Zooniverse jacket) when he suddenly wondered where Howard had gone.

"Sally, where's Howard?" he asked.

Kylie politely turned into Sally, "I haven't seen him. You should find him. He is porcelain."

"What does that mean?" Vince asked, putting the marmoset into his pocket.

"I have no idea," Sally responded, "But you should find Howard."

"Howard?" Vince called. There was no response. Vince picked up a microphone made of diamonds and again yelled, "Howard!"

His voiced echoed and splintered, reverberating through the universe until he heard a soft but irritable, "What?"

Sally/Kylie disapeared and Vince was in Old Gregg's cave. Howard was naked and huddled up on his stack of mattresses. Old Gregg's love for Howard is all there in Howard's nest. A group of disgusting looking mattresses, lovingly collected and covered with linens that seemed to have been stolen from a whorehouse. Poor Howard was like one of those tiny dogs stuffed in a purse. Whatever love was there, it had gone wrong.

Vince crawled onto the creaky pile of mattresses and wrapped himself around Howard's back.

"Oh, Howard. Why are you here? It's a dream, you could be anywhere."

Howard clutched at the hand Vince placed on Howard's chest.

"You shouldn't be here, Vince," Howard's voice sounded tired, "You don't belong here. This is my ring in Dante's Inferno."

"That is a great club! I have never been able to get past the third ring. You need a celebrity to get into them rings."

The joke earns Vince a kiss on the hand.

Vince looks around the cave and notices there are new watercolors, ones that Gregg couldn't have drawn, but are still in his style. There's Howard with his eyes squeezed shut as Eleanor tries to kiss him on the mouth and trying to put his hand... well, where Howard would have known for sure if she was a woman or a man. Assorted disturbing images involving Lester Corncrake clearly taking advantage of Howard's complete inability to work his way out of an awkward situation. Every time Vince tells Howard he thinks Lester is faking his blindness, Howard scolds him for being unkind and then grills him on why he thinks Lester is faking. Howard has to know, and yet he must get something from his time with Lester. Vince knew he couldn't be objective, he resented sharing Howard's attention with anyone. The idea that creepy Lester had something to offer that Vince couldn't... Well, it was Milky Joe all over again.

The most upsetting were a series of images of a scrawny, teenaged Howard and his beloved mentor, Tommy. The first was of Howard in the keeper hut, hair wet with a towel wrapped around his waist, catching sight of Tommy coming up behind him in the bathroom mirror as he brushed his teeth. The painting changed, showing Tommy pushing the towel out of the way and groping at Howard who simply stands still with his eyes shut. He reminds Vince of a little kid, covering his eyes and declaring, "You can't see me!" The fact he's twice Tommy's size makes it all the sadder. Tommy would have had a hard time forcing Howard into anything, but it's nothing to take advantage of Howard's hero-worship. Subsequent encounters get more explicit, but none of them are quite as heartbreaking as the first betrayal of trust.

"Grating was too good for him," Vince growled into Howard's ear.

"He was a good man, he taught me everything I know..."

"He took advantage of you, Howard. He knew you weren't interested..."

"I told him I... had problems in that area. It wasn't his fault I couldn't get excited," Howard explained, staring sadly at his younger self, "I wanted to be more for him."

"You can't make yourself be attracted to someone, you didn't owe it to Tommy to like him getting all freaky with you. Who wouldn't be put off by that big head? An' he's makin' a move like he's some kind of ninja, sneakin' up on ya an' everything. That is well creepy."

Vince was rewarded with another kiss on the hand but Howard looked no less sad or wistful. In Howard's mind, it was still somehow his own fault that his hero made a habit of having a wank on Howard's leg. It was scary to realize how stubbornly Howard was clinging to his self-loathing. For someone always seeking reassurance, Howard was terrible at accepting it.

"He should have left you alone when he saw you weren't interested, he must have known you were just being nice..." Vince suddenly couldn't breath. An icy hand squeezed his heart and drew tears.

"No, Vince," Howard said forcefully, "It's not like that with you."

Vince tried to fight off the cold feeling in his chest, Howard had been excited. He just wasn't ready...

The fist tightened.

"Vince, it's this place. It's making you paranoid. You need to leave," Howard insisted, using his most authoritative tone. Somehow Howard was now sitting up and Vince was flat on his back. He wondered if it was possible to faint in a dream.

"I'm not sure it's right that I've been, you know, bein' so physical with you right after...," even as he thinks he shouldn't be touching Howard, Vince's hand immediately reaches out to brush Howard's hair from his foreheard, "after all you went through..."

Howard shook his head fiercely, "No, Vince. I've wanted to. I've wanted to... t-to know that I could make it good for you, even if I'm never... well."

Vince tried to think of a nice place to go, somewhere that he and Howard could just be happy together and not always worrying about things. He drew a blank, only able to picture Howard's desperate pleas when he'd finally been rescued from his freaky, green captors. Howard had been so willing to be everything Vince wanted from him in exchange for kindness.

"You need to get out of here, Vince," Howard insisted, "I don't want you to feel this way. This isn't meant for you."

Suddenly Vince knew where he and Howard could be, somewhere safe and happy.

xxx

Vince opened his eyes and found Howard looking back at him, his chocolately eyes were darting about. They were back in their cozy hotel room. Vince flicked on the light beside his bed, adding to the light coming from the the bathroom.

"Sorry, Howard, but that dream was rubbish. I couldn't make it a happy dream, and it was makin' me feel all confused. It's better bein' awake than bein' there."

Howard awkwardly brushed Vince's hair out of his eyes, and Vince wondered if it was intentional or an accidental imitation of what Vince had done in their shared dream. Howard was trying so hard.

"You can call for me when you have those bad dreams," Vince reminded him gently, "I think I'm gettin' better at knowing when to come looking for you..."

"I did try but..."

"The other Vince showed up?"

Howard didn't need to say anything, it was all over his face. Howard and his nasty Vince. How could Vince compete with someone who said everything Howard expected to hear?

"Did you chase him off or did I replace him?" Vince asked. Howard had left his hand lying between them. Vince ran his fingers over the hand, giving Howard a chance to pull back, before taking the big hand in his own.

"I chased him away. I know he's not you." Howard wasn't even trying to look Vince in the eye.

"But he says the things you think you deserve to hear."

Howard didn't argue.

"Whad'he say?" Vince asked, as gently as he could. He didn't expect Howard to answer and startled a bit when Howard started talking.

"I know you would never be as hateful as he is but..." Howard took a deep breath, "If things don't work out between us... in the physical sense, that is... I don't expect you..."

Vince bit his lip, trying not to interupt Howard as he stammered. It wasn't easy.

"You can be with someone else, physically that is and, erm, romantically?, I suppose is what I mean and, well, you would still be my best mate. I would still care about you. You don't have to settle for what I have to offer, is what I'm trying to say."

"I know what settling feels like, Howard. I've been settling for second rate Howards for years. I don't want anyone else," Vince could see Howard was getting uncomfortable and reached out to stroke his lightly stubbled cheek. Howard tensed but Vince didn't pull away, he just waited for Howard to relax. He was starting to get the hang of touching Howard, "I'm not sayin' I'm not gonna snog the occasional lesbian for attention, I'm still gonna be Vince Noir, but I don't want to get off with anyone but you. It's always been you, I wanted anyway."

Howard looked embarrassed but chuffed at the same time.

"An' there's nothing to work out, physically. What we've done is genius and I'm not used to gettin' lucky that often anyway. I'll be good for a year, now," Vince (kind of) joked, "You don't have to do anything to make me happy. Maybe some snuggling."

Howard kissed Vince's hand again, causing Vince to blush. Even when he fantasized about Howard, he'd never really imagined him being romantic or demonstrative. He'd rather imagined things would be exactly the same, except they'd have sex once in a while. It wasn't so much the sex he fantasized about (sometimes it was about the sex), it was about being with Howard forever.

"It was when you started wearing make-up," Howard said, out of the blue.

"Am I meant to understand that? 'Cause I don't," Vince said, staring at their joined hands.

"That's when I started to think of you... that way. At least, that's when I became aware of you as... someone who might at sometime be someone I could possibly be physically... intimate with."

"Sometime?" Vince teased. He hadn't been quite fifteen when he'd started playing around with eyeliner and lip gloss. The fact Howard had been a teen himself would, of course, mean nothing to Howard. Howard didn't drink cups of hot, steaming rules, he absorbed them into his skin. There was no context or wiggle room, just rules that were meant to equal safety.

"You stayed so young for so long!" Howard exclaimed, suddenly sounding exasperated, "Even well into your twenties you were still believing everything I said, hanging on me and following me around..."

"I just liked being with you," Vince explained, feeling defensive and embarrassed, "And I had a crush on you since I was little..."

"That's the trouble, innit? How can you be in a relationship with someone when you can't see them for who they are? It wouldn't have been right for me to..."

"Take advantage?" Vince supplied.

"Yeah," Howard agreed, looking relieved that Vince understood.

"The way Tommy took advantage of you?"

Howard didn't respond. Vince could never remember the proper name for the horsies in chess but he knew a check mate when he saw it.

"You were nothing like I was at that age," Howard pointed out.

"Course not. I had you lookin' after me and you were all alone."

Howard was shaking his head, trying not to hear anything that might make him feel a little better about himself.

"I never stopped admiring you or looking up to you 'cause you never let me down. Even if you were talking rubbish, I knew what your were saying was always meant to help me or protect me or make me not feel scared. Whenever I slept with some guy that reminded me of you, he would mess it up..." Vince instantly regretted mentioning other men, but he thought Howard needed to understand, "by not really carin' 'bout me. I knew you would worry about hurtin' me or pushin' me into somethin' too quickly."

"If I had been better at showing you how much I cared... loved you," Howard was visibly struggling with the use of emotion words, "you wouldn't have had to... take so many chances. Put yourself at risk."

"You didn't let me down by not sleepin' with me when I was fifteen, Howard! I'm glad you didn't, even if I had to do some stupid things along the way 'cause when people asked questions about us, and they were ready to jump to all kinds of sleazy conclusions and thought you only cared about me because you were getting something out of it..." Vince felt his cheeks going red, but continued, "I liked bein' able to say you weren't like that and you really cared about me... and I suppose the worse I acted up and you kept carin' 'bout me, the more it proved I was special to you. Sally helped me figure that out."

Howard looked thoughtful. He also looked fragile and tired.

"And... we always have the yeti dream... or we can make another dream together. You an' me never had much use for reality anyway..."

"We can try that, what we did in the dream, for real," Howard suggested, speaking too quickly, "just in reverse, if you like... if you..."

"No way, Howard! I ain't ready for that after everything that's..." Vince squeaked, panicking at the suggestion, "That's too advanced and scary."

"It was just an idea," Howard snapped, letting go of Vince's hand and rolling onto his back.

Vince felt scared by how quickly Howard changed his entire demeanor. Vince hated treading on egg shells with Howard. Cowboy boots and eggshells did not go well together. Vince considered throwing himself at Howard's mercy, but went with a different tactic.

"You can't feel ready for that, Howard. I know you're pushin' yourself to do things you think you need to be able to do to be normal but we never been normal! Normal is for borin' people!"

Howard stared on the ceiling, his face unreadable. Vince took a deep breath and continued.

"I know you can point to a day on the calender and tell me when you should be ready for a proper shag."

Howard frowned.

"Go on. When do you think you should be past everything that happened and be ready for what we did on the yeti bed," Vince teased.

"I don't have a day..."

"Liar! Tell me."

Howard heaved a sigh, "Well, I hadn't accounted for Naboo actually helping me so I thought there'd be a longer physical recovery..."

Vince laughed, knowing it would make the older man angry but loving the proof Howard was still Howard, "I knew it! So how long did you give yourself to feel better and not be post tramatically distressed anymore? I'll tell you my date if you tell me yours."

Howard raised his eyebrows, "You have a date?"

Vince shrugged, "I got an approximate amount of time you'd need to... recover before we started anything. Let's say it together on the count of three. One, two, three!"

Vince said, "A year."

Howard, "A month."

"A month!" Vince squawked, "I've needed six months to recover from a bad haircut! You are mental, Howard."

Howard was smiling but his eyes were sad, "I don't expect you to wait forever for me to..."

"Perform your husbandly duty," Vince dead panned.

Howard chuckled but didn't actually disagree.

"Can we just mess around for a bit?" Vince asked, shyly, "I'm not expectin' anything. I just like snoggin' you."

Howard turned back on his side, facing Vince, "Can we turn off the light? Just this one..."

Vince slapped the light off and launched himself into Howard's arms.

xxx


	23. Chapter 23

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Warnings: a little angst, a lot of snogging, a little sex, a bit of sappiness

Rating: R

Summary: Vince and Howard make out

Author's note: Bless those of you still reading! RL has been a bit out of control! Hopefully I'll be able to finish this little epic before my next class starts. Comments are loved!

Disclaimer: These characters belong to the Boosh and this is just a bit of fun. Angsty, angsty fun.

For a long time, they just kissed. Vince's lips felt pleasantly raw from Howard's scratchy mustache. He hoped his lips would still be swollen in the morning, a physical reminder that what was happening was real. Maybe he could coax Howard into giving him a good old-fashioned love bite. Vince felt like a kid again, the kid he had only briefly been before he started seeking out more adult activities. Howard seemed to sense the moment Vince started feeling ashamed and regretful of his youthful indiscretions.

"Something wrong, Little Man?" Howard asked, gently stroking Vince hair back from his face. They still hadn't showered, but Howard didn't seem to mind that Vince was a mess and that his hair smelled like sweat. Vince was rather enjoying the strong, Howardy scent filling his nostrils.

"I'm just glad you're here. I missed you," Vince said, managing to be completely honest and avoid the question at the same time.

Howard pressed his lips to Vince's forehead like he was checking for a fever.

"I missed you, too. I..." Howard winced a bit, a sure sign he was about to discuss something emotional, "I thought about you, not just during... I thought of you all the time."

Vince stroked Howard's shoulders and arms, trying to be reassuring and not overly sexual. It was a bit of a challenge as Vince was still naked and there was no way to hide his erection with Howard lying on top of him. Still, he had a feeling he knew what Howard was trying to say.

"I'm serious about not being worried about the sex," Vince explained, wishing he were a bit more eloquent, "That's not what this is about. I just want to be close to you, make you feel loved n'all."

He felt embarrassed once the words were out of his mouth. Everything sounded trite compared to the actual feeling in his chest. The desire to be as physically tangled with Howard as humanly possible was pure. The fact it turned him on was just biology.

Howard looked thoughtful as he continued to stroke Vince's hair.

"I do. As long as I've known you, you've made me feel like someone."

"You are someone."

"Someone who matters."

"You matter."

Howard just smiled indulgently. Vince knew Howard didn't really understand. He wasn't ready to understand, yet.

"Your mum really loves you, you know," Vince said impulsively, "I know she messed up a lot, but she's well proud of you."

"I'm not sure this is the best time to discuss my mother, eh?" Howard's tone was teasing but the distress in his face was real. Vince had to admit Howard had a point, but he continued anyway.

"She's intimidated by you, because you're a proper adult and she's more like me, a toddler in a full grown body."

"I'll be honest, Little Man, I don't care for this turn in the conversation..." Howard was wearing a strained smile, clearly fighting the urge to tell Vince to shut up.

"You know what I mean," Vince said in a conciliatory tone, giving Howard a kiss on the shoulder, "We like loud music and soft fabrics. That's why she gets me such great Christmas presents! She likes shiny things, I like shiny things... I'm just sayin' that I know she let you down, but not 'cause she didn't care 'bout you. Just like when I mess up and hurt you..."

Vince had been hushed by Howard many times over the years, but being kissed was definitely his favorite method of being silenced. Once Howard seemed confident he'd shut Vince up for the moment, he kissed Vince on the nose and both of his eyes. Vince moaned and sighed and giggled as Howard lightly kissed his face and neck. It wasn't easy to be patient and let Howard take the lead when all he wanted was to throw the Northerner down and snog him senseless, but Vince was giving patience a try. Howard was always banging on about it. Just because jazz made his neck go big didn't mean a little patience would be a bad thing. When Howard tried to move things along, Vince metaphorically put his foot down.

"S'not been a month yet," Vince teased, pulling Howard's hand back up to his waist,  
>"You ain't completely recovered."<p>

Howard frowned but allowed himself to be rolled onto his back. He was stiff and clearly uncomfortable, but he didn't pull away as Vince covered his face and neck in kisses. Howard was always looking for attention but froze up when he got any. Vince used to think this meant Howard was mental, now he understood it was part of being complicated.

Vince sat up so he was straddling Howard's waist.

"Would you rather I put some pants on? This seems a bit..."

Howard ran his hand down Vince's side, resting it on his hip and said, "Seems silly to put on clean pants until you've showered..."

Vince fought the urge to pull a shape or at least suck in his cheeks. Instead he just sat still and let Howard look at him. He was probably a mess anyway, not that Howard would notice. Howard was never fussed about how Vince looked. There had been only a handful of times Vince had created a look that piqued Howard's interest. When he'd started wearing make-up, he'd only gotten a sigh and a pair of raised eyebrows.

Except Howard said that was when he started thinking of Vince in a sexual way. Maybe Howard wasn't so indifferent.

Vince turned to show his best side and sucked in his cheeks a bit to show off his cheekbones.

Howard laughed and gave him a pat on his naked rear, "Enough with the shapes, you peacock. You've got eyeliner on your chin."

Vince leapt off Howard and into the bathroom. Howard hadn't been exaggerating. His face looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. He was working on his raccoon eyes when Howard walked in and turned on the shower.

"I'm a bit whiffy myself," Howard explained, "I think we could both do with a shower."

"I like how you smell," Vince pointed out, causing Howard to turn beet red. The strangest things made Howard blush, "But I'm going to need an extra pair of hands and about a gallon of conditioner to undo the snarls in my hair, so cheers, Howard."

They continued the mutual admiration as the hot water pelted them. Vince kissed his way down Howard's chest. Howard was still a bit shy but Vince took his time, doing his best to keep Howard nice and relaxed. When he worked his way down between Howard's thighs, Howard whispered, "I might not be able to... sometimes I can't..."

"S'not 'bout that, Howard, it's about makin' you feel good," Vince explained, kneeling down on the shower floor, "Tell me to stop when it don't feel good anymore. 'Til then, just enjoy it. I'm not expecting anything... I just want to... I just like kissing you is all."

Howard stroked Vince's hair and fussed at him. He ran his fingers through Vince conditioner covered hair as Vince kissed his belly and the inside of his thighs. If Howard could detangle Vince's hair during a blowie, he'd be (hands down) the best multi-tasker in the world. He'd be sure to get another certificate from the Mayor of Leeds.

Vince gave Howard's erection a few gentle strokes as he continued a thorough exploration of Howard's bits with his mouth. He kept looking up at Howard to make sure he was all right but Howard's face was unreadable.

"This all right?" Vince finally asked. He couldn't take a chance on doing something Howard didn't like and he couldn't count on the stubborn Northerner to be honest. Howard was always hiding his real feelings under bluster and nonsense.

Howard waved in the direction of his erection, "I know I taught you to question the nature of reality, sir, but you're taking it to the extreme..."

"I'm taking it to the extreme... but am I really taking it to the extreme?" Vince asked, dodging a swipe from Howard, "I'm just checkin'! I don't want to do anything you don't want..."

"Little man, there isn't anything you could do I wouldn't like. That's never going to be a problem," Howard stroked the side of Vince's face. He poked Vince in the eye with his thumb because he kept looking away, but it was still sweet, "It's all me. Trust me, sir, none of it is you. You're... you're just wonderful, I suppose is the word I'm looking for."

Vince sat up and hugged Howard around the waist. It was the most obscene hug of his life. It was lovely.

"I love you, Howard, you are completely mental. It's so strange to say it out loud, I've been thinking it for so long," Vince hid behind his hair, "That I love you, not that you're mental. I've told you that before. I want to make everything good for you."

"You do. Just being you makes everything good," Howard said in a deep voice that made the back of Vince's neck tingle. Vince gently kissed Howard's erection, taking his time and enjoying the view. When he wrapped his lips around Howard's cock, they both moaned and then they both laughed.

"This is no laughing matter, sir," Howard scolded before chuckling again.

Vince ran his tongue along the length of Howard's shaft, giggling as the word 'shaft' came into his mind. It didn't take Howard's face long to go from a look of smiling indulgence to clenched and nearly anguished. Vince slowed his pace, trying to make it last. It was such a big step for Howard. After Howard had a few moments to collect himself, Vince started sucking him with long and slow strokes, causing Howard to turn into a mother hen, fussing over Vince like Vince had never given a blow job before.

"Slow down... You're going to choke... Do you want to put a towel under your knees?"

Vince took Howard's worrying (and ability to speak coherently) as a challenge. For all his worrying, Howard was still delightfully hard. Vince took him as deeply as he could without gagging, using both hands to stroke Howard everywhere his lips couldn't reach.

"Oh, dear," Howard whispered, charmingly old-fashioned in his sex talk, "I think I'm nearly there."

Vince moaned, letting the vibrations of his throat finish Howard off. His mouth filled with a rush of warmth as Howard clutched at his hair and swore under his breath. Vince waited until Howard was looking at him to swallow and lick his lips. It was a bit of a porn star move but Vince didn't want to leave any doubt that he was happy about what had just happened.

Howard began trembling and slid down the side of the shower wall until he was on the floor. It was entirely too reminiscent of Howard's earlier breakdown. Vince wrapped his arms around his friend and held him tight, murmuring into his ear, "S'all right, Howard. Everything is fine. You're safe, I love you, Naboo and Bollo are right down the hall..."

Howard wrapped his arms around Vince in a crushing hug, "You're so far away."

Despite the hot water splashing them, Howard's skin felt cold and he was shaking.

"What's wrong, Howard?" Vince asked, panic rising in his stomach, causing his voice to get squeaky, "I'm sorry, Howard. I was just trying to be loving to you..."

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine..."

"Fine people don't have to say it that much, I'm gonna get Naboo. He'll know what to do."

Vince tried to stand up but Howard had him pinned to his chest in a death grip.

"I'm just... a bit cold..."

"Let's get you into bed and all covered up," Vince suggested, "We can cuddle 'n everything. C'mon, Howard, let me go so I can stand up."

Howard slowly loosened his grip. It was a challenge for Vince to pull Howard to his feet, the big man had gone all limp. He gave Howard a quick dry with a towel before tucking him into the unused bed. Howard was shaking and pale but insisting he was fine. Vince quickly toweled off before jumping in bed with Howard, holding him tightly as he called Naboo on his cell phone.

"All right, Naboo? Sorry, were you sleepin'? Just a little thing, Howard's gone all cold and shaky so maybe you could pop over...?"

Naboo sighed heavily, "Let me guess, you've been shagging."

Vince was too guilt stricken to answer.

"I'll be right there."

Vince hated to leave Howard even long enough to open the locks on the door. Naboo and Bollo entered with a waft of smoke.

"You could have put on some pants," Naboo said, dryly. Vince looked down at his naked body and scampered back to the bed where Howard was still shaking like hairless dog in a light breeze. Vince wrapped himself around Howard's back, trying to share his body heat.

Naboo turned on the lights and took a good look at Howard's eyes before touching his forehead and checking his pulse.

"You're in shock, Howard," Naboo spoke in an unusually loud voice, "It's just a post-orgasmic chemical dump, nothing to be worried about. Vince'll get you warmed up, unless you want a snuggle with Bollo..."

"I'm fine!" Howard snapped before continuing in a more gentle tone, "No offense, Bollo, but I just showered."

"Howard smells like fruit cocktail, could use more manly scent," Bollo observed.

Naboo grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and threw it on top of Howard and Vince.

"Just keep sharing body heat, Howard will be fine. Me'n'Bollo are goin' back out, enjoy the festivities."

"Bollo feeling lucky."

"Might happen again," Naboo warned, "Might not. Stress reaction n'all. Call me if you need me but, put some pants on next time. This is disgustin' enough as it is."

Vince held Howard protectively, "Since where are you homophobic?"

"I don't mind two guys gettin' it on but, the two of you?" Naboo and Bollo made disgusted faces.

"What's wrong with me'n'Howard?" Vince asked, feeling more exposed than when he'd been running around naked.

"I'm comin' atcha, Vince, like a beam like a ray, yessir, I'm going to make love to your skinny, boney body like a kestrel," Naboo mimicked in a terrible Northern accent while Bollo pulled shapes and primped his hair.

"We ain't like that!" Vince yelled, unable to keep a straight face.

"Better the two of you shag than just giving each other gooey eyes all day," Naboo conceded, "We're off to find sexual partners who ain't got the mentality of a twelve-year-old."

Vince stuck his tongue out at Naboo, belatedly realizing he wasn't helping his case.

Before leaving, Naboo leaned down and whispered into Howard's ear. Vince tried not to listen but he was only a few inches away, trying to warm Howard up.

"You're gonna be fine, Howard. It'll take time but Vince ain't going anywhere and neither are me'n'Bollo. S'okay to relax."

Howard's whispered thanks broke Vince's heart. Of all the strange things that had happened in the past week, seeing Naboo and Bollo nearly doting on Howard was by far the strangest. Monsters, celebrities and daring rescues weren't all that unusual but the four of them usually stuck to their same dynamic. The change was a little frightening, but also nice. It took people a while to warm up to Howard because he was so prickly, like a porcupine. And like a porcupine, Howard never meant to use his prickliness to be lonely, he was just trying to protect himself from danger. The porcupine at the zoo, Pork Pie, had been well friendly and always up for a careful cuddle but most people never got to find that out.

As soon as the door shut behind their eccentric flat mates, Howard and Vince said, "I'm sorry," in unison and followed it up with, "The old double-act magic." Even Howard had to laugh.


	24. Chapter 24

Title: Let the Good Times Roll Part 24

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: R

Warnings: references to dub-con and humiliation, angst

Summary: Howard and Vince are dreaming

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and this is all for fun, not profit.

Author's note: This is a strange chapter, at this point I'm blaming everything on the Lyme disease (that I'm pretty sure I don't have but had to be tested for). Real life continues to be a huge drag, but we are coming towards the end of the journey. Don't worry, there will be more smut! Comments are always welcomed and appreciated.

Howard didn't have words capable of describing how he felt. He wasn't sure those words even existed. He would need to create some new words in order to describe how he felt with Vince's mouth wrapped around him.

"Maybe I'm too good," Vince observed, stopping his ministrations and shocking Howard out of his reverie, "You lost it a bit..."

Vince looked up at Howard through his black fringe, biting his lip in an innocent and yet totally obscene manner.

"That wasn't your fault, I don't know why that happened," Howard assured the younger man, "But it wasn't anything you did."

When Howard stroked his hair, Vince pressed into his hand like a cat.

"I've had a lot of practice," Vince said in a teasing voice, "God knows I've blown enough weirdos with mustaches!"

Something tugged at the corner of Howard's mind, but his immediate concern was reassuring Vince that he hadn't done anything wrong.

"I don't want you to think you did anything wrong or that you've anything to apologize for, Little Man. You've been wonderful. What you did... was wonderful."

"Then why did you fall apart?" Vince asked, his big, guileless, blue eyes staring up at Howard, "Why did coming in my mouth nearly give you a heart attack?"

The black hair. It wasn't real.

"Go away." Howard meant it to be an order but instead it was a whimpered plea.

Vince licked his lips and stroked Howard's cock, "Are you sure that's what you want? You wouldn't rather have me sucking you off? We can do other things..."

"Go away!" Howard whispered, "I can't have you setting me back again."

"Why not?" dark Vince asked, his eyes deceptively innocent, "It's not like I'll ever give up on you. I'll be by your side, no matter what. No matter how bad things get, I'll never leave you alone."

Howard tried to will himself awake, but he was too tired. He'd been through too much...

"An amazing blowie and a mental breakdown? That'll wear you out. Why don't you just relax and let me take care of you?"

"You are not Vince," Howard whispered, squeezing his eyes shut, "You are nothing but an embodiment of my own fears and I can't handle you right now."

"But don't you have a good reason to be afraid?" dark Vince said in his deceptively sweet tone, "I tried to make love to you and you nearly died."

"That isn't what happened... Naboo said it was a chemical thing... It might not happen again."

Dark Vince doesn't need to state the obvious, it's all Howard can think about. The sheer enormity of the thought is over whelming.

"It's fine, Howard, really. I've spent all these years patiently waiting for you to give me a chance, what's a few more years? It's not like I have any choice in the matter," was dark Vince's falsely pleasant reply, "I can't leave you now. You're a fucking basket case! I'll be here to hold you at night when you cry like a baby and I won't think less of you for trading sex to protect yourself. It isn't like I wanted to see you hurt, I just wanted you to show a little spine. Despite everything, I still thought you would have too much self-respect to let a sexually confused merman fuck you, but I know you didn't have a choice. You weren't strong enough to fight back, or even to say no."

Howard threw his head back and yelled, "Vince!"

He couldn't fall apart again. It wasn't fair to Vince. Vince was being so kind and patient.

And loving.

"Bit late to try and protect me, dontcha think?" dark Vince giggled, "You know what this is really about. You're afraid you won't get another blowie if you keep having panic attacks. That's what you really care about, what you can get from me. Now you've really got me trapped. You don't even have to hold me down, I'll just do whatever you want."

"Vince!"

"He can't hear you right now, you'll have to make do with me," dark Vince bit his lip, coyly, "I can think of a few ways to keep you happy until you wake up..."

He couldn't give in to the panic. He couldn't scare Vince again, and Vince would know...

"He'll know you were dreaming about fucking me, because I'm the one you really want. You can be rough with me, Howard. Go ahead and show me what you really want to do to your little friend."

"Vince!"

Howard found himself standing in nothingness, looking at himself and Vince in the shower as though it were a movie set. The role of Howard was being played by someone taller and better looking and Vince...

Vince was crumpled on the floor like a rag doll, weeping.

"...but you had to show off, you couldn't let me have one thing to myself," handsome Howard said in a deep and creamy voice that Howard was certain had never come from his own throat, "you had to show off how even fish couldn't resist you. If you had tried just a little bit..."

"I'm sorry," Vince whimpered, "I just show off to get your attention, I don't mean anything..."

"And that's why Old Gregg found me in the first place. It's all your fault..."

"Fuck off," Howard snapped as he approached the scene, "Don't use my face and Matt Berry's voice to talk bollocks."

Handsome Howard smirked, "You're rubbing off on him."

"Jog on," Howard ordered. Handsome Howard dissolved. He was getting the hang of these dreams.

Howard was still naked but a quick thought put him in a nice, soft pair of cords and fuzzy jumper. He pulled the sobbing Vince into his arms and stroked his wet, conditioner covered hair. He waited until the sobbing subsided to put Vince in a matching outfit.

"Howard!" Vince whined, "Corduroy?"

Howard laughed and Vince crawled into his lap, making a tutting noise.

"S'not nice to take advantage of someone when they're crying," Vince sniffed, "Putting them in ugly clothes..."

"I gave you a pink jumper," Howard teased, "I'd have given you sequins but they're scratchy. I was going for comfort."

"I'm sorry I said the clothes were ugly," Vince said before he began crying again.

Howard let him cry for a bit, knowing the smaller man couldn't hear him anyway. He just held him tightly and kissed his now dry and untangled hair.

"If running afoul of characters like the Hitcher and Old Gregg are the price of having someone like you in my life, it's a price I'm happy to pay," Howard said when Vince calmed down, "I wouldn't give up on the magic and the adventures for safety. I know that sounds strange coming from me, but it's true."

"I never meant to cause you trouble..."

"You don't cause me trouble, the world causes me trouble. I was born under a bad sign..."

"I bit your record. I told people you were bummin' Jack Cooper. I nearly got you killed by a kangaroo..."

"We can lay blame all night long. You're a muppet and I'm a pompous ass. But..." the words were getting caught in his mouth, "we're good people. We're good friends. We don't try to hurt each other or anyone else..."

Howard faltered under Vince's suddenly intense stare, but he took a deep breath and continued.

"We've made our mistakes, but I don't think we've ever done anything unforgivable, eh? We're just trying our best..."

Vince threw his arms around Howard's neck and kissed his cheek, "You're the best mate, ever. Best tutor, best guardian, best flat mate, best band mate, best co-worker, best everything."

Howard smiled at Vince's unfettered sincerity. Even at his darkest, most cynical moments, it was impossible to deny Vince's love. It just seemed so very misguided.

"So, has tall, dark and dickish been bothering you for long?" Howard asked, trying to keep things light, but worried about what his doppelganger might have said to Vince.

"He started out acting just like you and being nice but then..." Vince was tearing up again, "He started saying things that sounded more like..."

"Like what, Vince?" Howard gently encouraged.

"I can't say it, I don't want you to hear it," Vince whispered, "I'm sorry I slept around so much, but I swear I wouldn't have let you go down on me without a johnny if I weren't sure I was clean. I go to the doctor's every year and it's been almost two years since... other than snogging Kylie..."

Howard gave Vince a tight squeeze, his heart breaking at the peek into Vince's hidden fears.

"I don't think you're unclean and I don't judge you for experimenting when you were younger. I've only ever worried about your safety," Howard said, trying to sound as athoritative as Vince's dark Howard, "If anything, I know Naboo checked me out but..."

"It should have been me. He was right, I'm the one who is at the clubs, tryin' to get all the attention, dressin' like..."

"Don't even finish that thought, you don't deserve to be punished for enjoying life," Howard said, sounding more gruff than he'd intended, "I'm the one that's strange. I could never trust myself with you. I have such horrible thoughts."

Vince moved so he was straddling Howard's thighs, making it almost impossible to escape his piercing blue gaze, "Tell me what you're afraid of, Howard. If you don't, he's going to keep coming back and telling me my mouth ain't for talking and all that rubbish... I've heard it all before but it hurts so bad when it's in your voice."

Howard stroked Vince's hair as the young man wept on his shoulder. Later, he could talk to Naboo and Bollo about tracking down every person who had ever made Vince feel bad about himself for being attractive and teaching them some respect. For now, he had to take care of Vince.

"Looking back, I'm sure it was all rather tame and fake, but..."

Howard's fuzzy memories of a black and white film, a 'stag film' as his father called it, were projected into the darkness surrounding their shower scene. The men were oversized, in every way, and the women were small and clearly in pain as they were roughly manhandled.

"Poor, little Howard," Vince sighed, still resting his head of Howard's shoulder.

One of the brutish men was holding a woman by her hair, forcing himself down her throat as tears trickled down her cheek, streaking her mascara. He almost wished he could see the film again, see the bad acting and know it wasn't real. While he's lost in his thoughts, the scene changes and it's Vince - eyes wet and fearful, begging Howard to stop.

He stopped the image as quickly as possible, but it's too late. Vince saw and now Vince knows.

A new image pops up and it's even worse. Howard is taking Vince roughly from behind and saying terrible, demeaning things. Howard tries to make the image disappear, wondering where such hateful thoughts had come from, when he notices how broad shouldered and wavy haired he looks in the image. Vince, on the other hand, is skinny and frail with an outsized nose and chin. Howard has never had a fantasy in which Vince didn't look attractive. These were Vince's thoughts.

"Fucked up, right?" Vince said with a weak laugh, "It isn't what I usually think of when... I take things in hand... but sometimes. See? Mine is way worse. Even all traumatized you're still more innocent than me."

The image faded, but Howard couldn't stop blushing.

"I wasn't tryin' to make you uncomfortable, Howard. I just didn't want you to think you were the only one who had those kinds of thoughts," Vince explained, his head still on Howard's shoulder.

A new image popped up, another of Vince's fantasies. They're in the same position as in the previous image, but this is much more tender and gentle. Idealized Howard is fawning over Vince and declaring his love in the kind of purple prose that... wasn't too far off from Howard's own romantic fantasies.

"Can't watch this too long," Vince giggled, sounding self-conscious, "We'll get all sticky from the treacle."

"It's brave, what you do, being honest," Howard stammered, struggling to find the right words, "I wish I could be more like you, open, I mean."

Vince finally looks Howard in the eye, but Howard has to look away. He let his thoughts appear, unfiltered, and hoped Vince would understand.

xxx

Vince spent his adolescence waiting to grow. Even though he's a respectable height now, not tall but not tiny, he still feels more attractive in heels. He's never understood why Howard was always slumping, instead of enjoying the gift of being tall.

Watching images from Howard's childhood, it doesn't take a genius to see why Howard is uncomfortable in his skin. Even the usual childhood traumas like walking in on his parents having sex are magnified by all the frightening things Howard had already seen. It's hard to guess Howard's age by his appearance, it's only Vince's knowledge of fashion that allows him to pinpoint the year when thirteen-year-old Howard is closing in on six feet and finds strangers having sex on his bed. When he's invited to join in, Howard looks terrified for a moment. Terror turns to embarrassment and then anger before he storms into the hallway.

"Mom! Dad! My room is supposed to be off-limits! I put a sign up and everything!"

Vince immediaetly regretted laughing but Howard was chuckling as well.

"Poor Howard. You're so cute! I wish I knew you then, not that you'd have wanted a little kid for a friend."

"You were my first friend."

Vince ponders the enormity of the statement as the scene changes again. Howard is sitting in Vince's family home, pale and shaking while a very small Vince inspects a biscuit.

"This one is safe, Howard. No spiders. How long do drugs last?"

"It depends on what you've taken and how much," Howard explains between hesitant nibbles.

"How much did you take?"

"I didn't take any drugs, I accidentally ingested them because... oh, dear. The carpet's moving again."

"Don't worry," little Vince cried, "I'll stop it!"

They both laugh as young Vince throws himself on the floor, pretending to wrestle the carpet into submission.

"You were just a little boy, but you always looked out for me."

"I always will, too."

Vince covered Howard's lips in a kiss. They sat holding each other, exchanging gentle kisses until hunger pains forced Vince to wake up. He had a few minutes of gazing at the peacefully sleeping Howard before his companion awoke. As soon as he saw his friend's dark eyes darting about, looking anxious, Vince moved in for another gentle kiss. They could keep the dream going a little bit longer.

Then they'd eat beignets until they couldn't move.


	25. Chapter 25

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Vince/Howard

Rating: R

Warnings: angst, sex, language

Summary: Vince and Howard get to listen to more boring jazz.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh or Harry Connick, Jr. I will never try to make money off of them.

Author's Note: I know it's been slow going. Real life issues keep popping up and wearing me down! Thank you if you're still reading and I deeply appreciate comments and feedback. I have decided to not bother at all with school work today so I could finish and post this chapter lest you all go another day without seeing this new bit of artwork for karneol_vision! It is not work safe! Tasteful nudity. Or maybe it's tasty nudity. I get those words confused.

From Chapter 23, Vince's most obscene hug.

Vince absently but thoroughly licked the sugar off of his fingers as he watched the passersby at the Cafe du Monde. It was the kind of innocently obscene gesture that would normally cause Howard to chastise Vince about his table manners, and then tell him to eat like an adult.

This time, Howard allowed himself to simply enjoy the show. It felt a bit wrong, though he wasn't sure why. It was surely okay to look at Vince 'that way' now that they were...

Just thinking the word "lovers" brought a flush to Howard's cheeks.

"Have I got sugar on my face?" Vince asked, wide eyed but not at all innocent.

"Eat your French doughnuts, we wouldn't want your blood sugar level to dip below 500," Howard snapped.

Vince laughed, then admitted he didn't get the joke. Howard felt a rush of jumbled feelings. He needed some proper food.

"All right, Howard?" Vince asked quietly.

"I'm in tip top shape, Vince, fit as a fiddle," Howard answered too fast and too loud. Vince looked worried.

"I'm fine," Howard said, in a slightly calmer voice, "Really. I'm fine. Don't look so concerned. You'll get frown lines."

Vince scrubbed at his forehead until Howard laughed.

"I love you."

Vince went red and he dropped his eyes to his plate.

Howard hadn't meant to say it out loud. He was feeling a bit confused.

"I need some proper food," Howard snapped, feeling uncomfortably exposed, "Some of us can't live on sugar and butter."

"I love you, too, Howard," Vince replied, still looking down at his plate, "Let's go get you some more roast beef or some fish and chips."

Howard grabbed Vince's hand and squeezed it as they walked, in search of real food. Some people gave them funny looks, but Vince didn't seem to mind, so Howard held on.

xxx

Sally didn't believe in getting involved with coworkers, and she made it a policy not to puke in another person's toilet. Those were sensible policies for a sensible life.

Scrubbing Kylie's toilet with bleach led to more vomiting, and then more bleach.

This was not sensible.

The signs were not pointing towards romance.

"Sweetie?" Kylie called gently through the door, "Harry just called and offered me two extra tickets for tonight! If you can stop throwing up and cleaning for a few minutes, we should invite Vince and Howard."

Sally splashed cold water on her face, and made the usual empty promises to the air that she would never again drink herself sick. Then she sent Vince a text. Her new friends were heading back to England Friday. When they were gone, she would resume being sensible.

Until then, she would continue to enjoy herself. Lazy good times rule.

xxx

Vince lay on the grass, with his hands tucked under his face in an angelic manner, listening quietly as Howard explained the history of Congo Square. Vince's blue eyes were focused and he was responding appropriately. Vince was actually paying attention.

It was enough to make Howard lose his train of thought. Vince's eyes had always struck him as a touch unearthly, but today they seemed to be unusually piercing.

"Why do you think...?" Howard couldn't think of a way to finish the question that didn't sound like he'd gone completely mad.

"It's just how we are, Howard. We been like this for years," Vince said, answering an unasked question, "We're not like other people. We don't have the same kind of problems."

It was an astute observation. Howard felt like a teen again, all awkward limbs and hormones. He wanted very much to kiss Vince, but it was too overwhelming in the figurative and literal light of day. They both jumped a bit when Vince's phone beeped.

"Kylie is genius! Sally needs to hang on to her," Vince mused as he read his message, "We're going to see some more boring jazz!"

Howard smiled indulgently as he looked at the phone Vince was holding to his face. Harry Connick, Jr. in New Orleans. That was a proper holiday.

"I wish your friends in England had such good taste," Howard observed, "The best Leroy could do was tickets to a punk transsexual Spice Girls cover band..."

"I liked the Spice Grrrlz!" Vince protested, "That was a better night than when I had to save you from that old folk orgy with Lester."

Lester had apparently misunderstood and thought the "swingers' party" was a collection of fans of swing music. Maybe he hadn't misunderstood at all. He'd been all too eager to stay and, "feel things out." The party had moved into disturbing "Cocoon" meets "Eyes Wide Shut" territory when Vince had stomped into the party and demanded Howard leave immediately. When the geriatric swingers tried to protest, Vince explained that Howard was his submissive who had chewed through his rope to get to the party without permission. Howard had been hesitant to leave Lester alone, but Vince made a strong argument by pointing out, "Lester is old, creepy'n'horny. He belongs here."

Vince had been so smug that he'd actually found a use for his human dog collar.

Howard was lost in his memories and instinctively pulled away when he felt something near his face. Vince pulled his hand back and bit his lip.

"There's a piece of grass in your hair," Vince explained, before slowly reaching out to brush the blade away. Howard held his head still as Vince brushed at his curls. He felt a horrible urge to tell Vince how much he enjoyed having Vince cut his hair, that he liked it too much. It made him uncomfortable.

Instead, he stayed quiet and let Vince play with his hair.

xxx

Vince felt a bit light headed as he and Howard approached Kylie and Sally. Howard was holding his hand again. The grip was a bit too tight to be called romantic, it was borderline panicky, but it was still lovely to have Howard cling to him instead of hiding away with his anxieties. He was disappointed when Howard let go. Apparently, all it took was a curious glance from Sally to bring Howard back to normal. Even by his usual standards, Howard had been acting odd and twitchy all day. Vince felt a bit shy about what they had shared the night before, but he had no regrets. Howard deserved to know how much Vince wanted him.

And that Vince could be a bit pervy.

Howard relaxed as he chatted with Kylie about her experiences working with Harry Connick, Jr. during the hurricane relief. Kylie had them all laughing at her stories about dealing with bureaucrats and red tape. It was easy to forget she was talking about a horrible tragedy, she had such a charming way of spinning a yarn. It was Kylie, herself, who broke the spell.

"It was great when Harry showed up because..." Kylie's eyes welled with tears, "We kept thinking it would get better. That the next day would be better, but it almost got worse. Everywhere you looked, you saw so much pain..."

Sally placed a hand on Kylie's shoulder and Kylie immediately regained her composure. Vince wondered if Sally noticed how important her opinion was to Kylie.

"The worst thing, was... everyone wanted to know 'why'. Everyone was looking for someone to blame and... there were assholes on TV talking nonsense about sin and vice and blaming the victims," Kylie blinked back tears, "I'm a black Lesbian who didn't evacuate and I didn't get smited. You know? It was just bullshit but you could see how it hurt people. There were so many people asking, 'Why me?' and they don't want to hear about poorly maintained levees. They want to know what they did wrong to deserve such a horrible fate."

"The Just-World Fallacy," Sally added quietly, "We're biased to believe that life is fair. That we get what we deserve."

Kylie nodded and blinked back tears, "And it is bullshit. Terrible things happen to good people and fucking bastards turn a profit. I was getting ready to leave when Harry showed up. I was so depressed all the time... I know that sounds selfish, when other people had gone through so much more..."

"It isn't selfish," Howard said with surprising vehemence, "You can't just lose yourself in some one else's pain. Other peoples' pain, that is."

Vince wanted to hug Howard and maybe throttle him just a bit. The Northerner couldn't seem to get it through his head that there was no happiness to be found for Vince in a world without Howard.

"Harry reminded me why I was there," Kylie continued, "That I love the city, and I love the people. It was worth the pain to rebuild the city that I love, my home."

Vince had a feeling Kylie and Howard were having their own conversation.

"When my folks died, I was a right little git. I don't know why Howard put up with me..." Vince found himself unable to finish his sentence with his face pressed to Howard's chest and Howard's arms squeezing the air out of his lungs. He could feel and hear Howard's panicky heartbeat. He squeezed back until Howard began to relax.

"Christ, guys," Sally griped as she dabbed at her eyes, "I only wear make-up twice a year and y'all are about to make me cry it off."

Kylie grabbed Sally and Howard by the hand and Howard held Vince's hand. They walked into the club in a line, like children on a field trip.

xxx

Howard couldn't quite get lost in the music, even though Harry was brilliant and the venue was intimate. He was still a little too on edge, a little too confused, to really relax.

It didn't help that Vince kept staring at him. Every time he glanced in the younger man's direction, he saw those big eyes taking him in like he was an episode of Colobos the Crab. So much had changed between them in the past few hours, Howard couldn't begin to imagine what was going through Vince's mind, and yet he was still looking at Howard with the same old, loving expression.

At least that's how he looked at Howard when he didn't think Howard was paying attention. When Howard tried to talk to Vince, the awkwardness bubbled to the surface. Vince had been so full of gentle affection, so loving and attentive that it was frightening. Vince deserved so much more than Howard could hope to offer.

Howard belonged in a cave with Old Gregg. That was the kind of love he deserved.

He gave a guilty start when Vince's hand closed over his. Vince looked worried and pale. Howard tried to give him a reassuring smile, but Vince only looked more concerned. He was too soft-hearted for his own good. Vince never had the good sense to protect himself from the people who would drag him down. He was always so sure he could lift people up. The fact that Vince was usually right didn't make his thinking any less dangerous to his well-being.

During his encore, Harry announced it was time to turn into a lounge singer. He sang some of his more popular tunes while walking around the small audience, acknowledging people he knew and making jokes. The room burst into applause when he began to sing, "It had to be You." Even Vince was swaying and quietly singing along. He gave Howard a meaningful smile as he crooned, "Some others I've seen, might never be mean. Might never be cross, or try to be boss, they wouldn't do."

Howard had to smile back. In fact, he was so lost in Vince's unguarded happiness, he didn't even notice Harry approaching their table until he dropped an envelope on the table in front of Howard.

As the crowd went wild and begged for another encore, Howard opened the envelope with Vince hanging on his arm, whispering, "What is it?"

It was two tickets to a swamp tour.

xxx

Vince couldn't get, "It had to be You" out of his head. The song could have been written for Howard. Vince could be glad just to be sad thinking about Howard. Back in their hotel room, they kept their backs to one another as they changed into pajamas. Vince wondered if he should just go out and buy some pajamas or if Howard would be okay with him sleeping in his pants.

Or he could just keep wearing Howard's pajamas.

Or maybe Howard would make him sleep in his own bed when they got back to England.

Howard crawled into bed first and pulled the covers up to his chin. He looked nice and safe tucked up in his corner of the hotel room. Vince wanted to jump in and cover him with kisses, but he was feeling a little wary of touching Howard. His friend had been nervous all day. Howard had stood silently by the hotel door as Vince checked the bathroom, the wardrobe and under the bed. He'd only said, "Cheers, Vince," before pulling out his night clothes, not once giving Vince even a hint of eye contact.

Vince was careful to stay on his side as he climbed into bed, lying so he was facing Howard.

"Why'ja think he gave us the swamp tour tickets? Do you think the Star Turtle..."

"The tickets are for me, not you," Howard snapped, "There's no reason for you to go."

"He gave you two tickets!" Vince protested, "Besides, what if something happens and I'm not there..."

Vince trailed off as his brain caught up with his mouth.

"We're a team, Howard," Vince continued in his most gentle voice, "Where you go, I go. Things always go wrong when we split up. You know that."

Howard was trembling a little, so Vince wrapped the big man in a hug and stroked his hair, cooing nonsense into his ear.

"Vince?" Howard's voice sounded nervous and small.

"What is it, Howard?"

"Do you... that is, maybe we could..." Howard took a deep breath, "Doyouwanttomakelove?"

Vince's embarrassingly eager response made them both laugh.

Howard was still acting like it was a timed event, trying to move things along and bring Vince to climax before things even got started. Vince gently encouraged Howard to relax and enjoy himself, knowing it was like asking Howard to be shorter or to have bigger eyes.

They ended up with Howard lying on top of Vince, their bedclothes and pants pushed out of the way so Vince could work them both with one hand. It was only a few minutes of sloppy kisses and panting before they were lying in a sweaty heap. Howard was a little shaky as Vince cleaned them off, but nothing like the last time. His skin was warm and his color was healthy as Vince wiped him down and tucked him back into his pajamas. It was a bit strange for Howard to be so docile, but it was nice to see Howard so at ease and so trusting. He said something to that effect, and all hell broke loose.

Vince held Howard tightly as the bigger man wept, big sobs wracking his body. It was like a tornado, terrifying but brief. After a few minutes, Howard was wiping his eyes and hiccoughing too hard to apologize for his breakdown. Vince got him a glass of water and held him until he was able to regain his composure. When Howard made another attempt to apologize, Vince shushed him.

"S'okay, Howard. Cryin' is normal," Vince explained before adding under his breath, "you big poof."

Howard had him pinned to the mattress in under ten seconds and was threatening to perform unspeakable atrocities against Vince's hair. Vince pretended to fight back as he squirmed and rubbed himself against Howard.

"My hair is a national treasure," Vince protested, "You try and give me a tight perm and the Queen will do you for treason!"

"I could put your hair in bunches," Howard threatened, "You look good in bunches..."

Vince and Howard both blushed and looked away, then they both laughed. Half an hour later, the best Vince could manage was to wipe them off with his night shirt before tossing it on the ground. Howard fell asleep mid-protest. Vince curled himself around Howard and gave in to exhaustion. Tonight, he planned to jump straight into Howard's dreams before they even had a chance to turn ugly.


	26. Chapter 26

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: R

Warnings: dreamed and reference non-con, language, sappiness

Summary: Howard has a nightmare.

Author's note: Things continue to be crazy in both good and bad ways and it's been hard to find time to write. Then when I do get a chance, the characters insist they don't feel like advancing the plot towards the end of the story, they just want to get smutty. What's a girl to do?

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh, I write for fun (and because I'm a bit crazy), not for profit.

It was a nightmare. Howard knew it was a nightmare, but it hardly mattered. The pain was real and there was no escaping it. He couldn't call for Vince.

"That's right, ya slag, ya wouldn't want Vince to see you like this," the Hitcher leered into his ear. His breath smelled like death with just a hint of Bailey's.

He had to ask Old Gregg for help, it was his only option.

"S'right, you nonce, beg for Old Gregg to fuck you," the Hitcher laughed, "What other choice 'ave ya got? Whadda conundrum!"

Howard tried to wake up, but he wasn't sure how. He needed Vince.

Vince's eyes were ice cold as his fingers closed around Howard's throat.

No, that wasn't Vince, it was the Hitcher.

"Don't really matter now, do it?" the Hitcher sneered, "It'll be my face ya see as soon as he tries to fuck ya, boy. It'll always be me."

Howard tried to close his eyes, but he couldn't escape the Hitcher's horrifying face.

"I'm inside ya, slag, all the way inside," the Hitcher groaned into Howard's ear, "you'll never get me out of ya now."

He could beg for Old Gregg, it would hurt less if it were Old Gregg.

"Oi, you are slag," laughed the Hitcher, "Beg for it, boy!"

Howard tried to picture Vince, sweet and loving...

xxx

Howard was staring at the wall of the room he shared with Vince above Naboo's shop.

Home.

He was curled on his side, nearly in a fetal position, and someone was behind him.

Actually, someone was inside him, as well.

"Oh, Howard," Vince moaned in his ear.

He'd found Vince, he was in Vince's dream.

Vince ran his hand down Howard's chest and between his legs. He was surprised to realize he was hard but quickly realized he wouldn't be hard for long. Not if he kept thinking.

"Hey," Vince whispered, slowing his already gentle thrusts, "You okay, Big Man? Do you want me to stop? Just say the word, baby."

_Baby?_

"S'good," Howard whispered, trying not to shatter the illusion of the dream, "Don't stop."

He felt a bit nervous and shy about what was happening, but it was infinitely preferable to his own dream.

There were dozens of candles lit on the sideboard. Even as Howard began to feel anxious about the fire risk, his eyes fell on a fire extinguisher on the ground.

"Don't stop," Howard whispered again. There couldn't have been a more romantic gesture than that fire extinguisher, no clearer proof of how much Vince cared.

Of how well Vince really knew Howard.

It didn't matter if Vince's eyes were exactly like Old Gregg's (and like the Hitcher's) Vince was made of love and sunshine.

Vince had stopped moving his hips and was rubbing his hand in gentle circles on Howard's stomach, while covering his shoulder in kisses.

"No rush, Big Man, we can take it slow. I only want you to feel good," Vince spoke in a creamy voice with none of his usual cheekiness, "I want you to feel happy and safe and loved."

It was Howard's undoing. He'd had this dream so many times. After Vince's parents died, he'd woken up, full of shame, too many times to count after a dream about making love to his underaged and vulnerable charge. He understood this dream all too well and knowing that Vince was having it broke Howard's heart but also mended it a bit. His little man had been through so much. The last thing he wanted was for Vince to become aware of what was happening, he'd be absolutely mortified...

"What's...? Howard?" Vince's voice went from smooth and sexy to a high pitched squawk, "What's happening?"

Vince was frozen in place, one hand still on Howard's genitals and holding just a little too tightly for comfort.

"It's just a dream, Vince, everything's fine," Howard said, with entirely too much volume to be believable, "Don't be upset."

He could vaguely remember Vince saying something similar in the cave.

_"Please don't be hurt."_

It hadn't occurred to Howard what it must have been like for Vince to be there in that cave... to do the things Howard needed him to do. Even as his instincts led him to feel guilty, Howard could see how useless it was to keep beating himself up. Because of Vince, Howard was still alive and it was unthinkable that Vince should feel guilt or embarrassment over a dream.

"Listen to me, Little Man, this is just a dream, yeah? It isn't..."

"Am I hurting you?" Vince asked in a tiny, wobbly voice.

"Of course not, it's..." even in a dream, Howard couldn't be totally honest. He was such a coward.

"I don't know why I'm dreaming about... this," Vince whispered into Howard's ear, "I hardly ever dream about it being, you know, this way. It's usually the other way round like in the Yeti dream."

"It's because you... want to take care of me," Howard explained, feeling strangely worldly, "It isn't about the sex."

It wasn't about the sex, it wasn't about taking advantage of someone who was vulnerable.

When Vince lost his parents, Howard had wanted so badly to hold Vince and tell him he'd always be loved and never alone, but Howard hadn't known how. Affection didn't come easily to him and he had so many hang-ups about intimacy.

And Vince had been so young and so very beautiful.

Vince loosened his death grip on Howard's cock, and gave him a few gentle strokes. Howard felt relieved when his body responded appropriately.

"Is this all right?" Vince asked, nervously, "Should I stop?"

"At this point, I think stopping would be just plain rude," Howard replied, feigning a confidence he didn't feel, "You need to finish what you've started, sir."

Vince giggled and nuzzled the back of Howard's neck, "S'good to have you bossin' me around again."

It took some coaxing to get Vince to be a little less careful, but, soon enough, Howard was face down on the bed and griping the sheets while Vince comforted his brains out. Each thrust was accompanied by declarations of love and devotion from both parties. Howard couldn't quite get the hang of sex talk but even an approving noise seemed to be enough to please Vince. Meanwhile, Vince made several statements about Howard's physique and sexual proficiency that not only ensured Howard did not give in to panic or despair and lose his erection, but that he would be blushing for the next week.

While awake sex seemed to move all too quickly towards its logical conclusion, in dreams they could take their time. Howard relished the feeling of Vince inside of him, stimulating a million nerve endings with every movement. Howard felt a tingle in his toes telling him he was almost there, and yet he could still relax and enjoy the slow build.

"Nearly there," Howard groaned. He was rewarded with a series of quick thrusts that left him seeing stars and then seeing the ceiling of their hotel room.

Howard quickly glanced over at his companion. Vince was a good foot away, curled up on his side and facing Howard. His breathing was a little shallow, but otherwise he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Howard watched the tell-tale signs of tension as they appeared on Vince's face, until the younger man grimaced and stiffened. When Vince's eyes shot open, Howard had to look away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable for having watched his sleeping friend during such a personal moment. Howard knew it was ridiculous, given what they'd shared, but he felt awkward all the same.

"All right, Howard?" Vince asked in a hopeful tone.

"All right," Howard replied before giving Vince a quick peck on the lips.


	27. Chapter 27

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: sap, referenced violence, disturbing imagery

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Summary: Howard and Vince go on a swamp tour and they both get some answers.

Author's Note: First of all, there was going to be smut but it went long so the whole next chapter will probably be sappy smut (that I am working on right now!). Secondly, I've been having a rough time of it for a while and I so appreciate everyone being so patient and supportive. Everyone who reads and especially those who pop their heads up to comment, I appreciate you all so very much. I would break the sap-o-meter if I really talked about how much this community means to me. It has become apparent to me that I really need to prioritize things that make me happy in life, so I think the smart thing to do is to actually spend more time on fanfic!

xxx

Vince felt his cheeks flame red every time he looked at Howard. He kept seeing Howard all flushed and trembling, equal parts eager and terrified. It had felt so good to hold Howard and really... well, it was a weird combination of comforting and sex. It hadn't been like his normal (and embarrassingly frequent) sex dreams about Howard. This dream had been all fuzzy and soft around the edges, right up until he realized he had the real Howard in his dream with him. Then it had all come into sharp focus and he realized he'd failed in his plan to jump into Howard's dream and stave off any night terrors. Apparently, he'd gotten side tracked by the sweetly submissive Howard in his dream, a Howard that he could coddle and fuss over and call by cutsie nicknames.

Real Howard had been pretty agreeable, for that matter. Of course, whatever nightmare had sent him to Vince's dream must have been a hell of a lot worse than what Vince was doing to him.

Hazy images from the cave flooded Vince's brain. He could clearly see poor Howard all bruised and terrified, begging for kindness.

Vince jumped so high, he fell off the bed when Howard touched his shoulder.

Vince tried to get back on his feet with a touch of dignity but Howard was already helping him, his face full of concern.

"Sorry, Little Man, I didn't mean to startle you," Howard apologized. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before they both went red and looked away.

It shouldn't have been weird, it shouldn't have been any different from any of the other dreams or anything else they'd shared... but it was. It felt wrong and weird and selfish to have a dream about Howard doing something that Vince wouldn't even consider asking for in real life.

Howard didn't seem angry or even unhappy about the dream, he just seemed embarrassed. He was actually being very sweet about the whole thing, and somehow, that made Vince feel worse.

Worst of all, the dream had been so incredibly hot. Howard had been so beautiful, and just a little bit shy. Vince loved when Howard let his bravado drop and showed his fragile side. Because VInce was a horrible little brat, he often engineered opportunities to see Howard in a fragile state, like when he spread the rumors about Howard and Jack Cooper or teased him about his thin hair and crow's feet. Vince loved when Howard looked to him for reassurance.

He wouldn't have to be such a horrible little brat if Howard would just let Vince take care of him once in a while.

They made their way to the lobby to wait for the tour bus in silence. Vince grabbed some danish from the continental breakfast while Howard grabbed a sensible, whole wheat with flax seed bagel and low fat cream cheese.

"That's no way to eat in the Big Easy!" Vince teased. Howard gave him a stern look.

"I'll have you know sir, that breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

Vince smiled at the familiar, lecturing tone.

And then he remembered the dream and looked away.

xxx

It was a bit of a ride to the swamp tour and this particular bus driver felt no inclination to fill the air with chatter or jokes. Vince stared out the window, 'accidentally' brushing his knee against Howard's just to assure himself his friend was still there.

"Vince?"

"Yeah?"

"Nothing."

Vince looked back out the window, his cheeks burning hot.

"Vince?"

"Yeah?"

"The dream..."

"Yeah?"

"It was, it... itwasanicedream."

Howard was beet red and staring at the opposite end of the bus, but Vince was overjoyed. He threw his arms around Howard and kissed him on the cheek.

"Enough of that," Howard snapped, "We're still British."

Vince laughed and put his head on Howard's shoulder. Howard didn't brush him away.

xxx

They didn't discuss the obvious. Howard seemed confident that Harry Connick, Jr. wouldn't be part of an evil plan. He was New Orleans favored son, bringing jazz to the masses. While Vince thought that was a damned good reason not to trust Harry, he did trust the Star Turtle. They climbed on the boat, hoped it wasn't a trap, and Howard surreptitiously held Vince's hand. As soon as the word 'comfort' floated into Vince's mind, he felt a bit flushed but he was able to keep his composure. Howard had said it was a nice dream, afterall.

"Ain't you the kid on drugs talkin' to gators?" the captain asked Vince as soon as he boarded.

"I ain't on drugs but, yeah, that was me."

The captain squinted at Howard, "And this is the friend you were lookin' for?"

Howard had been holding Vince's hand but dropped it as the captain looked him over. Howard was standing tall, with his shoulders back. Vince has a feeling he was trying to look less like a damsel in distress.

"Yeah," Vince said, gesturing to Howard without touching him, "This is Howard."

"I'm glad things worked out, and you found him 'fore you got eaten up by one of them gators. They don't go lookin' for people but you can't be temptin' them too much neither," the captain said in gruff tone, nearly knocking Vince over with a powerful slap on the arm.

Vince melted a bit when Howard reached out to steady him and tried to play it off as the after-effects of the manly pat on the arm.

xxx

They saw several alligators before they found one in a chatty mood.

"Hey, you! Lady man!"

Vince, the only one who could understand, turned to look at the sunning gator.

"All right?" Vince called back.

That was enough to send the captain motoring toward the alligator.

"Is you the one that met the Star Turtle and a funky merman?"

"Um, yeah."

Everyone, including Howard and the captain were staring at him. He hadn't really cared when he was worried about Howard, but now it felt a little... strange. He hadn't spoken to animals much since leaving the zoo, except for Bollo and he spoke English.

"The T-man wants you to know he's done taken that merman under his wing and is teachin' him a bit 'bout how to be less of a fucking nut job."

Vince felt a wave of relief and turned to Howard, "The Start Turtle is looking out for Old Gregg, trying to help him... be less of a fucking nut job."

Howard didn't look relieved, he looked pale.

"What about... the Hitcher?" Howard whispered.

"What about the merman's crazy father?" Vince asked, a knot forming in his stomach. A less crazy Old Gregg might actually mean a less restricted Hitcher.

"He's stuffed and mounted on Old Gregg's wall," the gator replied casually.

"He... He killed him?" Vince asked, incredulously.

"Nope," the gator said with something like a shrug, "He's still alive and he won't shut up about the indignity of it all, but ya can tell he's proud of his boy."

"We won't need to worry about the Hitcher for a while," Vince assured Howard who instantly and visibly relaxed. He opted to keep the specifics to himself, Howard had enough nightmares.

"So, is Old Gregg... doing better?"

"He's dating my sister," the gator replied with obvious displeasure, "The family is in an uproar."

"How's that going?" Vince asked, not sure what else to say.

"Well, she bit his arm off..."

"So he only has one arm, now?" Vince asked. He noticed Howard looking almost concerned. He remembered how Howard had kept Sally from killing Old Gregg in the cave. There was a part of Howard that could still feel sympathy for the damaged creature, even after all he'd been through. It made Vince was to cry.

"No," the gator sighed, "it grew back."

Vince translated for Howard whose response was not profound, but still totally accurate.

"Eww."


	28. Chapter 28

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Vince/Howard

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Referenced non-con, current, fairly explicit sex, language, angst

Summary: angst and sex, my bread and butter

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they belong to the Boosh, and I have no intention of making money off of their wonderful creations.

Vince suggested a "disco nap" after the alligator tour. Howard could imagine Vince in a disco. Vince owned a mirrorball suit. He _was_ a disco.

In the hotel room, Howard awkwardly laid down on the bed and Vince curled around him, his hand on Howard's stomach, right above his belt.

Howard tried to think of anything but the placement of Vince's hand, but he was already getting hard.

Vince giggled and Howard considered hanging himself with one of Vince's silk blouses. At this rate, Vince was going to be running to the nearest consolate, seeking asylum from his sex-crazed boyfriend.

Or whatever he'd call Howard if he was asked.

Vince pressed his lips to Howard's neck and ran his hand over Howard's tented trousers.

"I know you're tired, Vince."

"I will never be too tired for this," Vince said, clearly trying to sound sexy but making himself laugh in the process.

Howard swatted Vince's backside, only succeeding in making the man purr. He was relieved to find Vince was also aroused, and rather flattered by how sensitive Vince was to his touch. Vince kept having to grab Howard by the wrist, repeatedly apologizing.

"I'm not usually this bad," Vince whimpered, "It's just that's it's daylight and you're you..."

Daylight was having the opposite effect on Howard. He felt uncomfortable and exposed. He hoped Vince wouldn't want him to take off his clothes even as he pried off Vince's drainpipes.

"I always knew I could make it good for you," Vince whispered, "if I could get you to just forget who I was..."

Howard nuzzled Vince's neck, not sure how to respond.

"But this is so much better," Vince continued, "_This _is genius."

Howard awkwardly disengaged himself from Vince's grip and started kissing his way down his friend's bony ribcage.

"How is it you're still emaciated? You've done nothing but eat and drink hurricanes and mimosas since you arrived," Howard observed as he worked his way to Vince's flat tummy.

"There were a few days I didn't eat..." Vince began before trailing off, awkwardly.

Howard kissed his friend's hip bone, "Sorry, Little Man."

"Don't be... oh, that's made my eyes cross."

Howard had seen far too much porn in his life between his parents and working for Bob Fossil. What he lacked in personal experience, he made up for in visual studies. Every time he cast a glance up at Vince, those big, blue eyes were fixed on him like lasers.

Howard decided to keep his head down. Once he worked out how to relax his neck muscles a bit, Vince was a panting, swearing shambles.

The idea of Vince ever leaving him hung in Howard's mind like the sword of Damocles, just ready to fall and fuck everything up.

Howard screwed his eyes shut and tried to just think about what he was doing at the moment, to just enjoy having Vince squirming in his hands and mouth, and cursing like a sailor.

If he knew the whole story...

Howard took Vince completely into his mouth and lost some strands to the pale hands gripping his hair.

"Oi, Howard," Vince panted.

Howard had expected Vince to take off when he was sixteen, when he had his first girlfriend, when he had his first boyfriend, every time he made a new friend or joined a new band, when the zoo closed and a million other times, and yet, Vince was still at his side.

The first finger was an accident, his finger slipped while he was groping Vince's ass, but Vince whimpered.

"Okay, Howard," Vince panted, "S'alright."

As soon as he began probing Vince's entrance, Vince clamped his whole body around Howard's head and came in his mouth. Undignified, but also quite sexy. Vince treated sex like everything else in life, he ran at it full speed and jumped in without a thought about caution or good sense.

"That was mental, Howard. I think I might have had a stroke," Vince whimpered, "Do you smell burning toast?"

Howard chuckled and tried to unfurl his partner.

"You are a shameless hedonist."

Vince smiled angellically, "I don't know what that means. Is it good or bad?"

"In this case, It's very good," Howard answered sincerely. Vince wrapped himself around Howard, rubbing Howard's stomach under his Hawaiian shirt.

"Howard?"

"Yeah?"

Howard waited for a response but Vince was unusually quiet.

"What is it, Little Man?" Howard prompted, "You can say... anything. I can handle it."

Howard stared at the ceiling and waited for the worst. What he got was a naked Vince straddling his waist and kissing him gently.

Howard stroked Vince's hips and indulged in a little fondling of his rear. He'd been spent nearly half his life trying not to ogle that perfect, squeezeable arse as Vince wore tighter and tighter jeans with every year.

"Do you want to?" Vince whispered into Howard's ear.

Howard was thrown off by Vince's apparent clairvoyance and gave his bottom a squeeze, "I've wanted to for a long time."

"Are you sure?" Vince asked, in a shaky voice.

"Do I seem conflicted, sir? I am a happy, happy man..." Howard sighed as he continued his exploration.

Vince was staring at him with an intensity that forced Howard to look away.

Howard was staring at the wall as Vince rifled about on the night stand. Howard was still trying to work out why Vince needed his night cream for a nap, when the answer became clear. Vince was preparing himself. There had been a serious break down in communication.

Howard felt a wave of panic, but there was no denying he was excited. The idea that he could be inside of Vince, that he could feel that velvety heat...

It could go badly in so many ways. Or it could be the best 30 seconds of his life.

Howard continued to caress Vince as he stretched himself. Vince's tongue was sticking out a bit as he concentrated. It was ridiculous and beautiful. It took Howard a while to work up the courage to take over the preparation process. Vince buried his face in Howard's shoulder, trembling like a leaf as Howard carefully slipped two fingers in. Howard was lying on his back but he still felt dizzy, like he needed to put a foot on the floor.

"Howard," Vince panted, "That's... wow."

They took their time. Vince seemed to genuinely enjoy what they were doing. Vince repeatedly ducked his head and mussed his hair, clear signs he was feeling shy even as he urged Howard to add another finger.

"I want this to be so good for you," Vince purred as he pulled down Howard's trousers and pants, "I don't want you to ever regret this."

"I think you've got it backwards, sir. That should be my line," Howard tried to keep his tone light, but he was more than a little nervous. With Vince's help, what Howard had done with Old Gregg had been tolerable, but still incredibly uncomfortable. Just because something was amazing in a dream didn't mean it wouldn't be disastrous in real life.

Vince took Howard's face in his hands, his pupils were so dilated, there was only a tiny ring of blue.

"I will not let this go wrong," Vince promised, "I've been dreamin' 'bout this for ages."

Howard closed his eyes as Vince stroked him with his expensive night cream. His penis was going to look youthful and wrinkle free when they were done. It was an absurd enough thought to keep him from coming the second Vince started to lower himself onto Howard's cock.

"Slowly," he whispered, though Vince was already moving just about as slowly as humanly possible. He hand one hand holding Howard's erection in place and the other on Howard's face. He kept running his thumb across Howard's cheek in a compulsive motion. It began to hurt a bit but Howard was grateful for the distraction.

It was even better than Howard expected and he had expected it to be amazing. It was more pressure than Vince's mouth or...

As soon as Old Gregg popped into his head, Howard tried to push him out. He tried not to think about those eerily familiar eyes or the wet heat under an ever-present tutu...

"What's wrong, Howard?"

Vince sounded far away, like he was in a tunnel.

Or a cave.

Vince was crying.

Howard remembered how bad it had hurt to have the Hitcher trying to force himself in. It had made him so desperate, he'd offered himself to Old Gregg just to get away from that sharp and burning pain.

Howard clutched at his head, trying to get his thoughts to settle down. He needed to know why Vince was crying. He needed to save Vince. When he tried to reach out to Vince, Howard realized he had been tightly wrapped in a blanket.

"What's happening, Vince?" he asked, feeling like his heart was going to explode, "Why am I all wrapped up?"

"You're freezing, Howard," Vince sniffed, "I'm trying to get you warm. I'm afraid to call Naboo..."

Howard fought his way out of his blanket cocoon and pulled Vince into his arms. He covered them both with the blanket and stroked the younger man's back until his sobs subsided. He cleaned Vince's face with a tissue. He knew he was being too rough, he well remembered similar face scrubbings from Nan Moon, but he could feel Vince relaxing. Howard had learned a lot of lessons from Nan Moon, most of them terrible, but he'd learned that it could feel good to give in and let someone else take charge. He'd never felt safer than when his Nan was manhandling him. She was a nutter, but she never hurt him. She spit on her hand to flatten his hair, which was disgusting, but also made him feel like he safe.

Someone was taking care of him.

Nan Moon had taught him the safety that could be found in order. Howard had a rotation system for his clothes so they were all worn equally, but he let his hair grow long and shaggy. Maybe he was still waiting for someone to clean him up and make him presentable.

"Now, listen to me, Little Man," Howard said, slipping into his bossiest tone and handing Vince a tissue, "you need to calm down before you make yourself sick. Now blow your nose. Again."

Vince meekly followed his orders, and soon enough, his weeping turned into quiet sniffles.

Normally, Howard would make tea in an emotional situation, but Vince was still naked and Howard's pants were down around his ankles. Vince's eyes were red and swollen, so Howard kissed them first. That started Vince crying again, but he was clinging to Howard's neck so Howard continued to kiss him. He kissed Vince's sharp cheekbones and his beautifully crooked nose and his pale shoulders.

"Um, Howard?"

Vince's face tasted of salt. His lips were still sweet from the praline he'd eaten on the way back to the hotel. They were both still slicked up, but Howard took a few minutes to make sure Vince was properly stretched. Vince looked dubious at first, but soon he was groaning as Howard twisted his fingers. Howard felt that he was at a crossroad. It was time to be a man of action.

Vince was still sniffling, but he was hard and he didn't hesitate to spread his legs for Howard. He could never have explained what he was feeling, he barely understood it, but Howard was positive that Vince was thinking the same thing. It was only when they tried to fight against their bond that things went wrong.

Being inside of Vince felt so good, it almost hurt, but it felt _right_. Vince was working himself furiously his one hand, the other gripping the back of Howard's neck as though he might slip away.

Howard wanted to say something deep and poetic, but all he could think of was, "You're so goddamn beautiful."

Vince bit his lip and Howard felt a warm splash on his stomach.

"Quit smirking," Vince whimpered, his eyes still squeezed shut and his body trembling.

"Howard Moon doesn't smirk," Howard replied, trying to make it last a few more minutes, "he smiles... knowingly."

Vince pried one eye open, "That's not a smile, that is a smirk."

Howard tried to think of a response, to tease Vince about his vanity, but he was too close. He wasn't ready for it to end but Vince was wrapping his legs around Howard's waist and pulling his closer.

"Don't ever stop," Vince mumbled into Howard's shoulder. The words had the opposite of their intended effect. Howard's body spasmed as he came. Any effort to be suave was undone by his spastic and seemingly unending ejaculation. Vince giggled as Howard continued to pulse inside him.

"This is no laughing matter," Howard growled, wondering if he was ever going to stop. Vince covered his own mouth with both hands but he couldn't control his giddy reaction. Howard collapsed on top of Vince, suddenly exhausted. When Vince made a sound like, "oof!", Howard rolled them both over so Vince was on top of Howard. He was still completely hard. Perhaps his mini-breakdown and thrown off his wiring. Maybe his penis didn't realize his job was done.

Vince sat up, straddling Howard's waist.

"We could start all over again," Vince suggested in a smokey voice before dissolving into giggles, "I can't be sexy with you, it's too weird!"

Howard shook his head at the ridiculous statement, "You're always sexy."

Vince ducked his head and played with his hair.

"Maybe we should take that nap, now," Howard suggested. Vince carefully disengaged himself and ran to the bathroom. When he returned with a flannel, Howard was easily convinced to lie back and let Vince clean him up.

"It's nice," Howard announced awkwardly, feeling like he was speaking way too loud, "When you take care of me, it's -erm- nice. Thank you."

"I like takin' care of you. When you were missin'... I don't know," Vince's eyes were welling up with tears and Howard pulled him into his arms.

Howard kissed Vince on every available patch of skin until the smaller man was giggling and squirming.

"Don't get me horny, again, Howard! I'm tired!" Vince pleaded through his laughter.

"I can't help it," Howard responded with a bravado that still felt a bit creaky and dusty, "Howard Moon is sexual monsoon, raining pleasure..."

"And tweed," Vince added.

"Pleasure and tweed all over your ass."

Vince suddenly turned serious and whispered, "I missed you so much."

It seemed like maybe they should talk about what had just happened, but it felt a bit unneccessary. Howard was a basket case and Vince loved him anyway. What else was there to say?


	29. Chapter 29

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Summary: Vince thinks things over.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: some angst, references to past non-con

Author's Note: Back from vacation! Thanks to everyone who is still reading, extra love if you comment.

Vince dreamt about tweed rain. He was happily dancing to Gary Numan's cars when his hand hit something hard but a little squishy. He opened his eyes and found Howard rubbing his cheek.

"You punched me in your sleep," Howard grumbled.

"I was sleep dancing," Vince explained as he reached out to touch Howard's face. When Howard flinched, Vince let his hand hang, mid-air, until Howard rather sheepishly offered his cheek for inspection. Vince knew that animals were instinctively defensive, and he was always thoughtful about his movements around them. He wondered why it took him so many years to recognize the same defensive behaviors in Howard. Maybe it was because animals weren't embarrassed by their instincts. Maybe is was because Vince didn't fancy animals.

"It's fine," Howard mumbled, avoiding Vince's eyes, "It wasn't hard... The punch that is."

Vince's dream fog was clearing and he was suddenly aware of a certain mild ache. That part hadn't been a dream. He and Howard had taken that symbolic step.

Vince's face burned as his mind raced with confused memories. He'd been so eager to take that particular step, maybe he had misread Howard's signals.

"No harm done?" Howard asked, trying too hard to sound casual as his eyes darted about the room.

Vince was confused for a moment before he realized he was still stroking Howard's cheek.

"You look fine," Vince said, his voice sounding strained to his own ears, "You look well handsome."

Howard turned pink, "Thanks, Little Man."

Vince brushed Howard's hair back from his face, "You're due for a trim."

Howard went from pink to bright red.

"Whenever you're ready for a haircut, I ain't gonna do nothin' to you while your sleepin'," Vince announced, wondering why he couldn't seem to think before he spoke like other people.

Howard ducked behind his shaggy hair, but nodded, "I could... I'd appreciate that."

Vince wanted to throw his arms around Howard, but settled for kissing his shoulder. Howard was still fully dressed, he'd just adjusted his clothes enough to make sex possible and then tucked himself back in.

"I thought you wanted to because you were groping my arse an' all. I didn't mean to push you."

The words hung in the air, irretrievable now that they had been said.

Vince promised himself he wouldn't speak until Howard spoke. He needed to stop guessing what Howard was thinking and start listening.

Things had been going so well, his friend had seemed nervous but excited. Howard had been making all kinds of sexy faces, like he was really into it, and then - nothing. His face went blank and pale, and he started shaking. Vince had wanted to call Naboo, but he was too ashamed. Naboo would have known straight away what had happened and who was to blame.

"I did want to," Howard replied, very quietly, "I wasn't thinking about it at the moment... but, I did want to..."

Vince held his tongue and tried to figure out what was going on in Howard's mind. Howard looked at a sunny day and saw the risk of melanoma. Howard found tragedy everywhere he looked. Vince thought for the millionth time that it should have been him that was kidnapped. If their roles had been reversed, Vince would be in his bed in England being administered tepid tea through an IV. Howard would have draped Vince in shades of brown until the world seemed manageable again, he wouldn't be running Vince around the city where he was kidnapped, and shagging him literally day and night. Howard wasn't even safe in his own dreams.

If their roles were reversed, Vince probably would have been set free the first day. He saw his charm like a dimmer switch. He knew the setting that drew people in, the setting that dazzled them, and the setting that would send people running. He'd have done Old Gregg's hair and banged on about Gary Numan until the merman decided he was better off alone.

"I just had a moment," Howard continued softly, after a few minutes of silence, "I thought about... what happened and... I don't really remember what happened after that."

Vince had hazy memories of their early shared dreams, back before he knew they were real. He could see Howard, all bruised and broken looking, squinting in the light shining from Old Gregg's tutu. Vince had woken up horrified that his reaction in the dream had been to help Howard perform with Old Gregg rather than rescue him. Surely, even Howard would have had a better plan than to get Vince ready to have coerced sex with a sea freak.

"I thought you would die if you didn't have sex with Old Gregg, in the dreams, I mean. It didn't occur to me to come up with a proper plan or anything," Vince explained, "In those first couple of dreams, I couldn't really think properly."

Vince's phone began blasting "Cars" again. He belatedly realized it had been the alarm on his phone. The alarm played for ten minutes before going silent. He wondered if Howard had slept through until he was sleep-punched by Vince, or if he'd quietly tolerated the noise until Vince woke up.

Howard pulled the covers up under his chin, as though he were too exposed in just one full set of clothes. Vince considered grabbing one of Howard's hats to make him feel a little more covered.

"The other Vince..." Howard was barely whispering, "He didn't just appear. I was thinking of you to..."

Howard closed his eyes, his face crumpled in pain. Vince tucked Howard's sheets tight around his body, he responded well to be cocooned, before resting his head on the big man's shoulder.

"I'm such a coward," Howard sighed.

"Tryin' to survive ain't cowardly, it's tryin' to survive," Vince said gently, carefully keeping his hands to himself, "It's what everyone does."

"Not everyone would have done what I did," Howard said with a hollow laugh.

"I would have," Vince tried to choose his words carefully, "I would have closed my eyes and thought about you. I've done it before..."

Vince winced at the last bit. Things kept coming out of his mouth before his brain cell had time to vet them. The last thing Howard needed was to be reminded of Vince's shady sexual history. Howard had barely tolerated being touched before his kidnapping. He hadn't been in clubs looking for anonymous sex with people who didn't care what name you cried out, as long as they got off. If their roles had been reversed, the worst thing for Vince would have been wondering if Howard thought he was disgusting for using sex to get out of being killed.

"Good thing I turned up," Vince continued, "Your Vince was rubbish. He just made you feel bad."

Howard straight ahead and nodded.

"What kind of things did he say to you that made you so upset?" Vince asked, "Did he make fun of your crow's feet? Cause they're dead sexy, and your hair is soft and gentle and I like it..."

Vince paused to give Howard a chance to tease him or do a little bragging, but his little, worried eyes were staring straight ahead.

"What could he have said that was so bad?"

And then it clicked.

"Howard," Vince slowly placed a hand on Howard's chest, "I saw what they did to you. I was afraid they were going to kill you before I could find you. I'm sorry for what you had to do to stay alive, but I'm not sorry you did them. My life would be nothing without you."

"Don't say that, Vince..."

"It's true. You're the only person who really knows me and likes me anyway."

"Everybody likes you, Little Man."

"'Cause they don't really know me. I just left you shiverin' instead of callin' Naboo 'cause I didn't want him to know what I was doin' to you. He don't know how selfish I am."

Vince tried not to cry, but the tears came and soon his was wrapped in Howard's arms and breathing in his scent. Even now, he couldn't quite sacrifice a cuddle from Howard even though he knew things had gone all backwards. Howard was comforting Vince for being sad about being selfish and Vince was letting it happen instead of putting the focus back on Howard.

But Howard felt so warm and safe. He remembered every touch Howard had ever given him. He pulled those memories out of his brain box on a daily basis and remembered every embrace, pat or push in vivid detail. He could barely picture Mrs. Gideon's face, but he could feel exactly where Howard's fingers had grabbed his chin as he told Vince to stay away. Howard being jealous of Mrs. Gideon had been absurd, but stoking that jealousy had been a sure fire way to get attention.

"I'm such a brat," Vince sighed into Howard's neck, "But no one will ever love you as much as I do. I'm gonna keep messin' up, but I will always love you and I'll never ever be sorry I had the chance to show you how much I love you. You got nothin' to feel ashamed about, Howard."

Howard's shoulders were shaking.

Vince had hoped Howard topping him would put things right, get their dynamic back on track. Vince's fantasies had almost always involved Howard being 'the man' in their relationship. Being a man was so important to Howard and Vince really didn't give a toss. He was perfectly happy with being a man, it was genius at times, but he could never get excited about being masculine or worried about being feminine.

"My folks were amazin'," Vince mused, "They always just let me be who I was and never fussed about actin' a certain way."

"They were wonderful people," Howard agreed in a strangled voice.

"An' if it weren't for you, I probably would have ended up givin' in and just bein' normal. I wouldn't be me if I didn't have you 'round to love me no matter what I did. Not sure that's an entirely good thing, but it's true..."

Howard broke free of his cocoon and gave Vince a near suffocating hug. They held one another for a while before Howard started placing hesitant kisses on Vince's neck. Vince had set the alarm two hours early, anticipating he would end up all over Howard at least once more before they went out. He was getting better at planning, maybe he could be change after all.


	30. Chapter 30

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: R

Warnings: sloppy drunks, sissy bounce, sweat, semi-graphic sex, sappiness

Summary: Vince and Howard have one more night in The Big Easy before heading home.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh and, yes, Big Freedia is a real person and belongs to no one but his/herself!

Author's note: The first accomplishment of my 10,000 words in 10 days goal! It only took 300 words to finish this chapter but seeing as I've been working on it for weeks, I'm pretty pleased with myself. Thank you, readers, you patient souls. Thank you to everyone who continues to support and encourage my madness!

Kylie spotted the boys first.

"Here they come!" Kylie yelled, her drink sloshing all over her hand as she gestured.

"You need to point with the other hand!" Sally yelled for the third time that night. Kylie had splashes of Hurricane all over her sparkling silver dress. She looked like a drunken mirrorball.

"You need to let a sister get her drink on," Kylie snorted, "Now what happened there..."

Sally watched the men approach. Vince had also gone for a mirrorball look. Sally had been feeling quite sexy and smart in her fawn colored sweater dress, but seeing Howard in an alarmingly similar turtleneck made her wonder if she had gone a tad conservative.

"Vince is even shinier than you," Sally observed.

"I'm not talking about the outfit!, although it is fucking off the chain. I mean what happened between them since we saw Harry?"

Sally watched the two men battling their way through the crowd. Vince was clearly keeping up his normal stream of chatter. He alternated between gazing up at Howard with a broad grin and ducking his head, looking suddenly bashful. Vince looked a little more giddy than usual in Howard's presence, but it was obvious what Kylie meant. Howard was hovering over Vince like a mother hen. He held Vince's elbow as they stepped off a curb, clutched his arm protectively when someone nearly ran into Vince, he even grabbed Vince's waist when the smaller man stumbled in his platform boots.

Sally exchanged a knowing glance with Kylie.

"Woo-hoo!" they squealed in exaggerated, girlish tones.

Vince turned towards their voices, his face beaming with delight. He jostled his way through the crowd with Howard firmly in tow. Sally noticed Howard never bothered to cast a glance in their direction. He literally only had eyes for Vince.

"What's going on here?" Vince asked, gesturing between Sally and Kylie. Sally immediately felt her cheeks getting hot, but she thought her voice sounded steady when she asked, "What do you mean?"

Vince's smirk was oddly pretty as he mimicked Sally and Kylie's "Woo-hoo."

Kylie took Vince by the hand and pulled him towards the bar, yelling, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours!"

xxx

The venue was small enough that Howard could keep an eye on Vince no matter where he was, so he fought the urge to cling. He had the rest of his life to chase Vince off with his perpetual neediness, today, he'd let his little man have a good time. He deserved it after all Howard had put him through in the past few days.

Years, really.

Sally explained bounce music in a way that had Howard intellectually intrigued, even as he longed to jab ice picks in his ears from its constant repetition.

"So that's bounce music and, of course, sissy bounce is... well, it's Big Freedia," Sally explained as they waited for the aforementioned headliner. Howard looked at the poster of a large African-American man with long hair and lipstick and felt it was a pretty concise description of the genre.

"So... you enjoy this?" Howard finally asked.

Sally smiled, "I love it! It's great for dancing and just getting out of your head."

Sally did a little wiggle to the music and laughed.

"You can go dance with Vince and Kylie. You don't have to mind me all night long. Howard Moon is a man of the world, some would say a raconteur..."

Howard wasn't sure how to react to Sally's vehement refusal. He wasn't used to anyone but Vince - and sometimes his mum - worrying about his well-being. Sally made it clear she wasn't leaving Howard for a moment so he resigned himself to pretending to enjoy himself. He decided it would be a hell of a lot easier after he downed about five hurricanes.

xxx

Howard was not wrong. There were three Vince's dancing in front of him and each one was unbearably beautiful. His golden hair was sticking to his face and his make-up was running down his cheeks as Vince bounced and gyrated to the synthetic beat. Even lyrics like, "She wobbly, wobbly" suddenly seemed to make sense to Howard. Everything in the world came back to Vince and his form fitting mirrorball suit.

"I don't know if you are a man or a woman," Big Freedia yelled, pointing at Vince, "So get your ass up here!"

Vince tried to demure, but a smile and nod from Howard sent him flying onto the stage. Howard pretended not to notice Vince gesturing to Sally to watch over Howard. He continued to awkwardly shuffle back and forth between Sally and Kylie as Big Freedia gave Vince what could technically be called a dance lesson. He couldn't help but think Vince would have been better at this particular dance before the GI diet, when he had a more sizeable arse to shake.

Not that Vince wasn't doing quite well as it was. Between the jiggling and the sequins, Howard was nearly hypnotized and he was well-aware he wasn't alone. He put his jealous thoughts in his emotional locked box and focused on the spectacle on stage. Everyone got to stare, but only Howard was allowed to touch.

Howard moved out of the same dancer's way three times before he realized the young man was intentionally rubbing himself against Howard's crotch. Howard tried explaining he wasn't available or interested, but he could barely hear his own voice over the music. He tried turning sideways so only his hip was exposed, but he still felt certain he would have to burn his clothes after having some git in hot pants grinding his sweat into the fabric. He was lost in thoughts of laundry was Vince appeared. He hip checked the dancer and began grinding his own sweat into Howard's cords.

Howard decided he rather liked sissy bounce after all.

xxx

Vince dragged Howard around the room with him as he checked to make sure nothing was disturbed and the perimeter was safe. He hadn't let go of Howard since seeing some absurdly young and beautiful boy grinding all over him. Not that he'd actually felt threatened, Howard had looked like someone was rubbing dirty socks on his clothes rather than a fit body. It was reassuring to know that after all he'd been through, Howard was still Howard. He would always miss the point of human interactions. Still, he envied the dancer for having the nerve to just go after Howard. Despite their newly intimate relationship, Vince had been leaving some room for the Spirit of Jazz between himself and Howard as they danced, not wanting to risk a public rejection - no matter how quietly or subtly delivered. He'd spent years trying not to be rejected by Howard.

But now Howard was all his. Howard is all his sweaty, rum-soaked, mustachioed glory.

Vince burst into tears when his hair got stuck in the zip of his mirrorball suit, partly because he was frustrated but mostly because it hurt like a motherbitch.

"Hey, there. Slow down, sir, or you'll end up with a bald spot," Howard said in a voice so smooth and creamy it put Nutella to shame, "Let Moon's magic fingers take care of this."

Howard's voice was less buttery as he swore and snarled at the jammed zipper, but Vince felt dizzy with excitement. He wondered if there would ever be a time he made love to Howard that wouldn't feel like the first time. Before heading out to the club, they'd rather shyly exchanged hand-jobs as they kissed. Vince knew they were both afraid of Howard having another episode, but not quite able to keep their hands off of one another. The fact that Howard was so eager after all he'd been through made Vince feel a variety of conflicting emotions that he couldn't quite sort out, but love and gratitude were at the top of the pile.

After battling the zip into submission, Howard gently slid the fabric from Vince's torso. He moved slowly and carefully as he stripped Vince down to his pants, making quiet but appreciative noises as he went. Vince felt like crying again.

"Hey, there! What's wrong, Little Man?" Howard asked, his hand under Vince's chin. He looked so concerned and so very Howardy, Vince found himself blubbering all over his reticent muffin (or despondent beige - he had trouble telling the two apart) rollneck.

The first time he'd ever seen Howard drunk, they'd been at the Zooniverse Christmas party and straight-laced Howard was trying to work up the nerve to talk to the recently hired Mrs. Gideon. Even as he stumbled and slurred his words, Howard had insisted he was still "sober as a smudge". In the hour between Howard's sixth glass of Bob Fossil's "punch" (homemade wine, rubbing alcohol and imitation maple syrup) and when Howard threw up on Gideon's shoes, Vince had plenty of opportunity to turn some of his long held fantasies into reality. Howard had been gazing at him with a glazed but loving look in his eyes, allowing Vince to hug him and kiss his cheek - even returning some affectionate touches. It was nothing that couldn't be dismissed as drunken silliness, just two mates hugging and kissing. Like they do. Howard didn't really have any other friends, so maybe he really did think it was normal.

"Being pissed suits you," Vince said, trying to keep his tone light, "You look all relaxed and happy..."

"I am very happy," Howard replied, his little eyes sparkling as he stroked Vince's hair and cheeks, "I went home with the best looking person on Bourbon St. for a start."

Vince blushed at Howard's wolfish expression. He was used to subtle glances and quick smiles from Howard, not open desire. It was far too close to his fantasies to actually feel real. While he had started out more or less marking his territory, the dancing with Howard in the club had gotten rather intense. He'd felt Howard's hard-on through his cords, twitching as Vince put his recent dance lessons to use. Howard had basically swayed to the music, his hands locked on Vince's hips. Only his pink cheeks and tented trousers suggested he was enjoying their 'dance'. When Vince suggested they head back to the hotel, Howard had tripped over his feet trying to make his exit.

"Better looking than the twink that was humping your leg?" Vince teased.

"What on earth is a twink?" Howard asked as he ran his fingers along Vince's spine, "It sounds like it could lead to diabetes."

"They can lead to all kinds of diseases," Vince giggled, "So you'd best stick with me."

"I plan to," Howard growled, his fingers running along the waistband of Vince's pants.

"You don't know what you do to me when you say things like that."

Howard suddenly grinned, "Really? I mean... Is that so?"

"You're sexy when you're trying to be sexy."

In seconds, Vince was facedown on the bed and being viciously tickled. There had been a handful of ticklings over years, but only when Howard was off his head. Even during drunken satsuma fights that ended with them both panting and hard, there had never been any real chance of things moving beyond playful. Vince had been so certain Howard would never make a move.

Vince squirmed under Howard's weight, making sure to be as obscene as possible, "Please, I'll do anything!"

"Anything?"

"Anything," Vince did his best to purr between giggles.

Howard stopped tickling Vince with his fingers and began tickling him with his scratchy mustache as he kissed his way down Vince's back.

Vince giggled and squirmed and felt like the luckiest person alive.

"I love you so much, Howard," he sighed. For a moment, he was worried he'd done something wrong. Howard had suddenly stopped moving.

"Vince..."

"Yeah?"

Vince whimpered as Howard began kissing his back again. He was feeling so content, it took him a while to realize what Howard was hinting at.

"The stuff is in the drawer," Vince prompted, hoping to sound casual.

"Are... are you sure?" Howard asked, "If you're sore at all..."

"I am so sure," Vince assured him, "I am 100% sure I want you inside me."

Howard actually growled. Vince wanted that noise as his ring tone.

Howard was meticulous if a bit clumsy in his preparations. Vince was glad they had a second bed to sleep in because the one they were on was pretty well covered in lubricant. Howard kept dropping the bottle or letting it tip over as he got distracted.

"Your arse is a masterpiece," Howard admired, "It should be in a museum. Not working in a shop in Dalston."

Vince giggled at Howard's drunken appreciation until Howard distracted him once again. Even after Howard was able to move three fingers in and out Vince's body with ease, he kept clucking and adding a little more of the slippery stuff.

"I'm not actually made of Faberge eggs and tissue paper," Vince teased, "I think I'm ready for you."

Howard tsked and mumbled about 'proper preparation', but he finally tucked a pillow under Vince's hips and moved into position behind him.

"If you feel any discomfort..."

"Will you just bum me already?"

"Patience is a virtue, young man," Howard reminded Vince. Before Vince had a chance to express his feelings on patience, he was swearing his tits off as Howard worked his way inside. Vince twisted the sheets in his fists and whimpered as Howard made up for lost time. He thanked every lucky star, and a few unlucky ones as well, that Howard was safe and, at long last, all his.


	31. Chapter 31

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince (Sally/Kylie)

Rating: PG-13

Warning: language, referenced neglect

Summary: It's time for the boys to head back to England

Author's note: Though we're in the final stretch, this story is nowhere near done! Thanks to everyone still reading and still indulging me in the endless tale!

Howard woke up an hour before his alarm was set to go off. He was tempted to enjoy a little more time curled up with Vince, but his bladder was making a strong argument for getting out of bed. Inevitably, by the time Howard washed his hands, he wanted to brush his teeth. Once his teeth were brushed, the day had begun and getting back in bed was not an option.

Working by the bathroom light and trying not to disturb Vince, Howard began packing. He found his cell phone still in the safe, the battery dead. He put it on the charger and started pulling his clothes out of their draws and refolding them into a more luggage appropriate shape. Vince often laughed at his attention to folding, but when his suitcase invariably wouldn't close, the little man always changed his tune.

The room filled with the sound of "Mother's Little Helper", Vince's ring tone for Howard's mother. Howard had tried to explain to Vince why the song was a really inappropriate choice, but... it wasn't all that inappropriate.

"All right, Howard's Mum?" Vince answered. Howard stifled his laughter at Vince's greeting.

"He's..." Vince looked around for Howard, smiling when he saw him, "He's fine. Do you want to..."

Howard turned on his phone and was surprised to find he actually had a message waiting for him. Several in fact. His phone kept buzzing as message after message belatedly arrived on his phone.

"Yeah, we um... we had a bad time of it," Vince said quietly, "But Howard's safe and sound..."

They were all messages from his mother, pleasant and non-threatening inquiries turning into panicky pleas for a return call.

"No, you can always call me," Vince said, "You don't have to apologize... No, Howard won't be mad at you... I won't tell him you called..."

Howard's stomach twisted. The first message was the day he'd been kidnapped.

"We're still in America, but we're coming home today."

Howard didn't want to think about it, he just wanted to be home with Vince. He envisioned himself back in his bed with Vince sleeping in his arms and in his pajamas. He took deep breaths and imagined how warm and comfortable he would feel. It would be the complete opposite of how he felt growing up.

"Don't worry, Howard's Mum, I'm going to take good care of him... Um, I'm not sure I can answer that... I'll make sure he calls you when we get home."

Vince stared at his phone for a while before speaking.

"That was your mum," he said, rather unnecessarily.

"Yeah, I was able to work that out," Howard answered dryly, "What did she say?"

Vince stared at his phone some more, clearly choosing his words carefully. It was so unlike Vince to think before speaking, it made Howard nervous.

"Just spit it out, Little Man," Howard encouraged, "I've known the woman literally all my life..."

Vince gave him a week smile and nervously licked his lips before speaking.

"She's been having dreams about you. Bad dreams. She dreamt that a monster took you and... she kept trying to call you and you didn't answer..."

"The first call was the night..."

"I know."

Howard closed his eyes and tried to think about how he would rearrange he and Vince's room when they returned home. They would need a whole new set up that would allow for them both to be comfortable. Maybe he could assign one chair to be the place Vince threw his clothes instead of all over the room.

"She asked if..." Vince went red and pulled his sheet up to his chin, "She asked if we were lovers, I didn't say anything..."

Howard pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes and thought hard about Stationery Village. Vince had given him the Top Shop, but maybe they could add more things Vince liked. There had to be a way for them both to be happy. Maybe if Vince understood why Howard needed to have things a certain way, he'd be willing to go along with a few more of Howard's rules...

"How did she know, Howard?"

"Because she's not high."

xxx

Howard wouldn't talk about his mother any more. Normally, Vince wouldn't have let Howard get away with being cryptic, but he'd clearly been upset by his mother's phone calls. Howard and his mother had a strained relationship at the best of times. While Vince certainly understood why Howard wouldn't be in the mood to talk to or about his undependable parents, Vince couldn't help but think that after what Howard had been through... maybe he'd want a little motherly coddling.

"Do you think she..."

"I don't want to talk about it!" Howard snapped, staring straight ahead.

"You don't want to talk about whether or not Sally wants coffee?" Vince asked, unable to hide his smile. Even though Howard was clearly upset and emotional, Vince still felt a bit giddy to be sitting next to him. Even without all the mind-blowing sex and even more mind-blowing cuddling, it still felt like such a gift to have his friend back at his side.

"How does she take it?" Howard asked, looking shamefaced.

"I think she takes in black. I don't know if Kylie will be coming..."

"Kylie will be there," was Howard's smug response. Nothing made Howard happier than knowing he was right.

"What's that?"

"What's what?" Howard asked with feigned innocence.

"Why are you so cocky? How do you know Kylie will be coming with Sally to pick us up? I know they've made the leap across the physical boundary an' all..." Vince tried to read Howard's face, "What did she tell you?"

Vince had left Howard alone with Sally a bit more than he'd intended the night before. He'd gotten so excited chatting with Kylie. If he hadn't been so busy talking about Howard, he would have been spending more time with Howard. He'd have to work on that when he got home. He couldn't have Howard feeling neglected because Vince was busy telling everyone in Camden how much he loved Howard Moon. He'd already spent too much time with strangers, wishing he were with Howard.

"I had a little chat with Sally, last night," Howard looked extremely proud of himself, "I don't think she'll be letting Kylie out of her sight for a while."

Vince watched Howard walking towards the coffee machine in the hotel lobby, appreciating the view from behind but also the bounce in Howard's step. The idea of Howard giving love advice was ludicrous but intriguing. He needed to know what Howard had really said, not the nonsense Howard would pretend he'd said. Howard always thought he had to punch up reality and make it more exciting. He never believed he was interesting just as he was.

xxx

Sally accepted the hot coffee like it was manna from heaven. Kylie didn't have a coffee maker. She drank tea. Herbal tea. They had already left the apartment late because Kylie had to change her outfit when Sally mentioned they'd be dropping by Marie Laveau's resting place before heading to the airport.

Sally wanted to say the Marie was dead and unlikely to notice Kylie's outfit, but that was a hangover from her pre-Vince days, back before she had met the Voo Doo queen in the insubstantial flesh. Life would be strangely ordinary when Vince left. Months of dreary data analysis loomed in front of her. Just her and Kylie at a computer, staring at numbers for hours on end.

It did make her smile to think of that time spent with Kylie. She always made the statistical drudgework more fun with her genuine love for the process and her enthusiasm was contagious. Sally had always been drawn to Kylie. She was a brilliant statistician, passionate about the environment and she currently had Mardi Gras beads weaved into her box braids. She brought a touch of whimsy to the study of hydraulic fracturing.

Sally glanced at Howard in the back seat. He was watching Vince playing with Kylie's hair, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He'd told her the night before, after drinking enough to put a local under the table, that the lesson he'd learned from his ordeal was never to pass on an opportunity to be happy. Although he didn't say as much, it was obvious that Howard's definition of being happy was seeing Vince happy.

She looked at Kylie, happily drinking her coffee. It looked like coffee flavored cream. Tomorrow, Kylie would start her day with an herbal tea and a whole grain cereal, but today she would enjoy her sugary coffee without guilt.

Sally considered the advice Kylie had given her the night before when she'd been nervous about holding hands as they walked home, not wanting to draw attention at such a late hour.

Kylie had said, "You should ask Marie Laveau to help you loosen the fuck up."

Sally took another drink of her bitter, hot coffee and thought - for a statistician - Kylie had a pretty good grip on the world.


	32. Chapter 32

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: jokes about fairies, Americans being American

Summary: The boys say goodbye to Marie Laveau

Vince flushed when Howard took his hand. No matter what they did in bed, Vince was sure he would never get over the shock of Howard wanting to hold his hand in public. Even if no one could see them in the back of Sally's car, it still seemed like a bold display. Mr. "Don't Touch Me", was initiating physical contact, even the kind that didn't end in a mind-blowing orgasm.

He hoped it was mind-blowing for Howard. It was hard to judge when his own brain was exploding two or three times a night.

Kylie kept up the flow of chatter. She already had plans to come visit them in London and go shopping at Top Shop.

"Do they sell women's clothes?" she asked, hopefully.

"It's all women's clothes," Howard explained, with a hint of a smile under his mustache. Kylie turned to Vince.

"And you say you buy just about all your clothes there?"

Howard and Vince said, "Yes," at the same time. Sally asked them to "tone it down" before she got "a case of the sugars".

xxx

Vince was thrilled to see Marie again. Kylie looked a bit pale and wobbly, and Howard looked indifferent. It was pretty hard to impress Howard. He'd seen some pretty crazy things in his time.

His indifference turned to shock when Marie Laveau, Voodoo queen of New Orleans, recognized him.

"My, my, my. If it isn't a Moon in the flesh. You people really do reflect light," Marie said, touching Howard's cheek, "I thought that was an exaggeration."

"You can't really call Englishmen 'you people' any more," Kylie gently explained, "We call them Anglo-Americans."

When Vince pointed out he and Howard were not American, Kylie patted his arm and said he was adorable.

Howard was frozen in place, staring at Marie as she circled him. She ran her hands around Howard's body like she could feel a heat or light radiating from him.

"Your people tend to go mad," Marie observed, "I never expected the line to last this long. Marvelous. No wonder that sorry sea creature wanted to keep you. He was probably pulled to you along with the tides."

"Soooo... thank you for your assistance, Madam," Howard responded with forced civility, "but I have a flight to catch..."

"You can't change who you are, Howard Moon," Marie warned, "You'll waste your whole life trying and Moons tend to live such a long time."

"You clearly have the wrong family," Howard chuckled.

"When they don't go completely mad," Marie clarified. Howard took a step back.

"Actually," Vince piped in, hating to see Howard looking uncomfortable, "His Nan was barking mad and she lived for ages."

Howard did not look appreciative of Vince's support. Nan Moon had been ancient when Vince met her and she lived a decade after that.

"Just because someone barks, doesn't mean they're mad," Marie explained, pulling the scarf from Vince's neck and styling it into a headdress, "You'll have to take this off at the airport, of course. Even those big blue Noir eyes can't protect you from being 'randomly' chosen for extra screening if you're wearing a turban."

Vince admired Marie's pragmatic wisdom.

"I'm sorry," Sally's respect for the deceased Voodoo queen was clearly duking it out with her intellectual curiosity, "It's just... never mind. Thank you for all you've done for us."

"Dr. Blanc, I've been listening to you prattle on since you were a baby girl and your Gamma would bring you to see me. You'll make yourself sick if you don't get it out of your system."

Marie looked kindly and indulgent, Sally looked gob smacked.

"You heard me... Never mind. I was just wondering..." Sally looked at Vince and then looked at her feet, "Never mind."

Marie smiled and put her hand under Vince's chin.

"Before humanity discovered the dubious of joys of being ordinary, the world was filled with magic. I am the most powerful woman in the world, not because I was born any different from any other woman, but because I embrace my power. Most of the Noirs left the swamps for positions as junior executives and the Moons climbed down from their mountains and found less dangerous ways to get high."

Vince was very tempted to change the subject, and almost hoped Sally would give in to her need to smooth over an awkward situation, but his new friend remained silent. He could sense the speed if not the content of her thoughts.

"So..." Sally cast a guilty look towards Vince before continuing, "It's just... the Star Turtle said something... and Vince could see the entrance to the cave... Oh, wow. We should be heading to the airport. Increased security and all that."

"Smooth," Kylie whispered, "Very subtle."

Vince stared at his boots, feeling queasy. He knew what Sally meant, he was sure everyone (especially Howard) had been thinking the same thing.

"So, I really am one of them?" Vince asked, bracing himself. He thought he was going to get through the exchange with a bit of cool, but then Howard put an arm around his shoulders and Vince went limp.

"You're nothing like them," Howard said with a vehemence that frightened Vince, "You are not one of them."

"You are to that pitiful sea creature as a housecat is to a tiger or as Sally is to me. You may take the occasional trip to Mr. Susan's mirror foyer, sorry, mirror _world_, but you are very much of the mortal plane," Marie explained, all the warmth in the world seemed to reside in her dark eyes, "and the Noirs have never been good _or_ bad by nature because black absorbs everything. Dr. Blanc over there can't be told a goddamn thing because white reflects all color..."

"It's not that I won't..." Sally protested before being cut off.

"See? She's arguing with a dead woman. That's a true Blanc."

Vince laughed while Sally looked sheepish and Kylie looked ready to faint. Vince didn't dare look at Howard who was standing behind him, his arm on Vince's shoulders.

Vince wanted to ask more questions, but Marie sent them on their way, warning them security would be "a bitch".

xxx

They sat in uncomfortable silence in the car until Kylie started laughing.

"Something funny?" Sally asked, sounding more hopeful than irritated.

"I was just thinking how I always thought that if you went to England you would find a fairy in every garden..."

"Do not call guests in our country English fairies!" Vince had never heard Sally's grandmother speak, but he was sure Sally was channeling her voice.

"I saw a fairy once," Vince said, carefully avoiding Howard's eyes, "when I was little. I used to think I imagined it."

"Can I make a joke about seeing fairies in the review mirror?" Kylie asked, getting a firm "no" from Sally.

"Can we talk about the fact Marie Laveau basically said you could be a Voodoo queen?" Kylie asked, with wide-eyed faux-innocence.

"Not what she said and no."

Kylie looked back at Vince and winked before continuing, "So can we discuss the fact that I seem to be the only one here not descended of some kind of magical line?"

"Blanc isn't even my real last name," Sally explained, patting Kylie's knee, "It's my grandmother's maiden name. I was raised Sally Johnson. I changed it because Johnson was..."

"Just say it," Kylie sighed.

"It was literally my slave name! The Johnsons owned my family and when they were free... I'm sure you have plenty of surnames in your lineage you could take that would make you feel magical."

"So, you think my last name probably doesn't mean anything?" Kylie asked with a barely repressed smile, "You don't think the Smith family line is full of magic? Just because it is the most common name in the country..."

"England as well," Howard added.

"So, in addition to totally being my 'slave name', Smith is useless. My maternal grandmother's name is LeFebvre. Does that mean anything special? Like woman who draws light or hangs out with magic folk? Looks good in white jeans, maybe?" Kylie asked with a hopeful tone.

Vince knew enough French to keep his mouth shut, but Sally didn't hesitate to answer.

"LeFebvre is French for Smith. You might want to keep digging."

Vince recognized the glee on Sally's face as Kylie pouted. He'd seen it a million times on Howard's face after he'd mocked Vince's fashion sense or cutting edge hair. He looked at Howard and saw a kind of wistfulness on the Northerner's face.

Vince looked back at Kylie and Sally, teasing each other and pretending to fight. There was an easy comfort between them that went beyond friendship, and a spark of chemistry and that was more than just physical attraction. They were clearly two halves of a whole.

"But," Sally conceded, "You do look good in white jeans."

Kylie pretended to swoon, but Vince could see her sincere happiness at the compliment.

"Hey, Howard, how does my pumpkin arse look in white jeans?" Vince asked, nudging Howard in the ribs.

Howard sighed, "I've seen you dressed as a human Coke can and Runaways era Joan Jett and I'm still..."

Howard suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Lil' Wayne says I've got a lot of ass for a white girl," Vince pointed out, hoping to ease Howard's discomfort with a touch of humor.

Howard's lips twitched in a not quite smile, "He's not wrong, Little Man. He is not wrong."


	33. Chapter 33

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Warnings: angst

Summary: Vince and Howard run into a snag at security

Author's note: I know it's been forever since I updated, but at this point it would be silly to rush the story! I appreciate anyone who is still reading.

"Why isn't your mascara running?" Kylie asked Vince as she dabbed her own eyes with a tissue, "You're crying as hard as I am."

"Enchanted mascara," Vince explained, mentally thanking Naboo, "It only runs for tears of pure sadness."

He couldn't help but peek at Howard, awkwardly hanging back and looking very British. A monsoon couldn't move his stiff upper lip. Vince's mascara would never run again, because he would never again be separated from Howard. While the thought set him crying again, his mascara stayed in tact because he knew he would see his friends again.

And he and Howard were finally going home.

xxx

The New Orleans airport was not only named after Louis Armstrong, it was chock full of boring information about jazz. Howard had read every plaque when they'd arrived, and he seemed determined to read them all again before they left.

Howard was chattering about the places he would still like to see in the Big Easy when he suddenly fell silent. Vince watched his lover's face fall and his little brown eyes become unbearably sad. When Vince reached out to stroke the side of his friend's face, Howard flinched away. Vince knew it shouldn't bother him, that Howard had his reasons to be defensive of his personal space, but it still hurt a bit. Maybe it always would.

"Sorry," Howard whispered, offering his cheek like a dog angling for a scratch behind the ears. Although the gesture was downright adorable, Vince was reminded of finding Howard in Old Gregg's cave, battered and broken and willing to do anything for little kindness.

"It's all right, Howard," Vince promised, "You don't have to do everything I want."

Howard avoided Vince's eyes, but gave him a small smile, "I want to."

"I know, but... It's more important to me that you feel safe and... respected, I guess, than..." Vince wasn't sure how to finish his thought so he started over, "I only want to touch you when you want to be touched."

_I just wish it were all the time_, he added silently. Vince pretended to read a plaque, but tears were blurring his vision. He was physically tired of crying, and longed to actually be able to focus on the boring plaque in front of him that combined the twin yawnfests of jazz and geography. He didn't turn his head when Howard tapped his shoulder, not wanting his friend to see him tearing up yet again, but then Howard physically turned him around. Vince was about to feign having something in his eye when Howard kissed him. It was a lingering and romantic kiss and when Howard pulled away, his cheeks were pink but he was standing tall. Howard looked proud of himself. Vince was proud of him as well.

xxx

Airport security was always a drag. Vince was far too fond of accessories to ever get through a metal detector in one go. On the way into New Orleans, Howard had tapped his foot impatiently while Vince removed item after item. The trip back was no different. Vince ended up being patted down by a surly guard before he was able to start putting his outfit back together. If airport security got any tighter, he'd just have to start walking through the metal detectors naked.

Howard rolled his eyes, but gave him a warm smile when Vince was finally cleared. Howard, himself, was on his second walkthrough. It was a sign of the toll their trip had taken on Howard that he forgot to take the pen out of his shirt pocket the first time through.

The machine beeped accusingly. Vince watched in amusement and Howard patted down his pockets, searching for the stray bit of metal. Vince resisted the urge to make a joke at his friend's expense. He didn't want to do anything to slow down the process even further.

xxx

Howard was down to his trousers and vest as a security guard ran a wand over him. The beeping seemed to be coming from his back. Vince could hear Howard saying that he was relatively certain he had never been shot, nor had any parts of his body fused together with metal. Vince was beginning to wish they'd just waited a day and hitched a ride home on Naboo's carpet. He'd considered it, but was hesitant to suggest Howard remain in the city for another day.

There was some conferring among the security personal. Vince didn't have to hear what was said, he saw the color draining from Howard's face as he shook his head no.

Vince saw the security tensing as he approached, apparently prepared for a violent attack or at least a hissy fit.

"My friend isn't carrying a weapon. We work in a shop, we're not anarchists," Vince explained with a 1000 watt grin. No one was impressed, especially not the heavy set African-American woman who seemed to be in charge. Her name tag read "Sugar".

"This is standard procedure, sir," she barked at Howard, "If you'll put your arms out, Stanley is going to pat you down, using the outside of his hands..."

Howard was beginning to tremble.

"This isn't necessary," Vince interrupted, "Look at him. He's clearly a geography teachers from Leeds."

A guard turned to Howard and said, "Can you ask your little 'friend' to step back before he gets into trouble?"

The emphasis put on the word friend made it sound like an insult. Even though Howard had been hearing similar comments on a nearly daily basis for years, he suddenly looked uncomfortable. Vince wished he had worn a less flashy outfit, or maybe less make-up. Howard always made Vince feel so comfortable expressing his particular sense of style, it had been years since it so much as entered Vince's mind that Howard would ever feel uncomfortable in the company of a man with purple eye shadow.

The implied insult hung in the air, and Howard looked mortified.

Sugar looked pissed off. She didn't say anything, she just shot the guard the kind of disapproving look that said, "I'll be professional now, but I will kick your sorry ass if you push me."

At least, that's what Vince saw in her expression. Vince could spot a sympathetic soul from a mile away, even one that was hidden in a TSA uniform.

"Please, just.." Vince was at a loss. He couldn't think of a plausible lie and Howard would never forgive him for telling the truth.

Sugar pulled Vince aside and asked, "What's wrong with the big guy?"

"He... He got hurt..." Vince was flailing and he was about to start crying again. There was a good chance his mascara would run this time.

Sugar roughly patted Vince on the shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance, "We'll get him through this."

xxx

Sugar said there was no avoiding the pat down, but she said it could be done in private, and she agreed to let Vince stay with Howard with the agreement that if anyone came by, she would have to wrestle him to the ground and say he broke into the room.

Howard hadn't looked at Vince once since the ordeal began, but Vince never took his eyes off of his friend. He tried to will Howard the strength to get through the search with as much dignity as possible. In a flagrant violation of policy, Sugar did the pat down herself, seeming to understand it would be less traumatizing from a female. She moved Howard around like a rag doll, using the kind of rough but not unkind approach that told Vince she was a mother.

"There's something right here," she said, pointing to the spot on Howard's back that had earlier set off the wand. "There's something under the skin. I can feel it."

Howard had been staring at the floor through the whole process, but his head suddenly shot up. His voice was steady and confident when he said, "It's a tracking device."

xxx

Howard wouldn't let Vince call Sally or Kylie. He stormed out of the airport to one of the many taxis already waiting. Vince practically had to run to keep up with him. Howard had a long stride and Vince was in impractical heels.

"What are we gonna do, Howard?" Vince whispered as they climbed into a cab.

"Where ya headed?" the cabbie asked.

"I have no idea," Howard answered before burying his head in his hands.

xxx

Naboo knew what to do. He sent Bollo to the shop for an Exact-o knife and performed the surgery himself. The fact Howard was willing to go along with it, showed just how scared he was.

"Standard semi-magic tracking device," Naboo commented, "I've got the same model on my carpet."

"Semi-magic?" Vince asked.

"Yeah. It requires a spell and a AAA battery," Naboo explained before turning back to Howard. "I couldn't see it when you're back was all scratched up. Sorry, Howard."

"Not your fault, Naboo," Howard said quietly, staring at the floor. Vince wasn't sure Howard had lifted his head once since leaving the airport. It was like the tracking device was still weighing him down.

"I can give you two a lift home tomorrow," Naboo offered, "but, I got something going on tonight I gotta take care of."

Vince wondered what could be so important, but he couldn't question Naboo after all he'd already done for Howard.

Vince found a hotel easily enough. It was amazing how different the city seemed after Mardi Gras. There were still plenty of people milling about, but in comparison to the madness of a few days earlier, it looked like a ghost town.

Their luggage was already en route to England, and Vince felt delightfully seedy checking into a hotel without so much as a toothbrush. Howard didn't look like he'd be up for much activity of the seedy variety, but Vince was looking forward to a good snuggle.

xxx

The room was lovely and eccentric, with all kinds of unnecessary furniture. There was a closet, chest of drawers and an armoire to hold their non-existent clothing, as well as two couches and three mismatched chairs.

Vince checked behind and under every item of furniture while Howard stood by the door, wringing his hands and looking miserable.

"S'all right, Howard, you can relax now. We're safe."

Howard let out a bitter laugh, "He had a tracking device... Not that he needs it. He knows where I live, they both do. You'll never be safe as long as you're with me."

Vince wanted to cover Howard's mouth, but settled for taking his hand.

"We're a team, Howard. You've never been bothered by the dangers of spending time with me," Vince reminded him, "We're not meant for normal problems, Howard. It's always been like this for us."

He waited for Howard to argue, but he just pulled Vince to his chest. He could feel Howard's heart thumping in his chest.

"We can move," Vince suggested, "You have that money saved up. We could buy a little house. Don't even have to be in London. We could live in the country and commute to work like businessmen. I could learn how to drive and all so it wouldn't always be you..."

He trailed off as Howard squeezed him in a bear hug. He snuggled into Howard's embrace and closed his eyes, enjoying the warm smell of Howard. Howard always smelled of strong tea and old books and other things Vince didn't especially care for and yet found comforting.

"You should keep your distance, Little Man," Howard sighed, "I wish I had the strength to push you away."

"World's full of monsters, Howard," Vince reminded his friend, "And you're the only person interested in saving me from them. I'll always be safer with you than on me own."

Vince could feel that Howard was crying, even though he wasn't making any sound. Vince held him tighter and tried to send soothing vibrations through his body. He couldn't protect Howard from monsters or airport security, but sometimes he could cheer him up a bit.


	34. Chapter 34

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: angst, sappiness, explicit sex

Summary: The boys spend one more night in the Big Easy.

Author's note: I know, I suck. I've honestly been stuck on this chapter for weeks. Real life... uninspiring to say the least.

Howard rubbed at his neck and upper back. He was still in pain from the 'surgery' Naboo had performed to remove his tracking device.

"Quit fussing with it," Vince mumbled, half-asleep, "S'not gonna heal with you picking at it."

Howard gave a guilty start, and automatically apologized. Vince laughed and opened his eyes.

"I'd make a good mum, Howard," Vince said, waggling his fingers in Howard's face. "You outta put a ring on my finger before I slip away."

If Howard could simply buy a ring to hold Vince at his side for all eternity, he would have made that purchase years ago.

"It's itchy." He hated the whine in his voice. Vince had a way of bringing out the best and the worst in Howard Moon.

Vince immediately looked concerned, like Howard having an itch was the worst thing he could imagine.

"Do you want another ice pack? More of that numbing stuff Naboo gave us?"

The itching wound was about the only thing keeping Howard from losing his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw cave walls and smelled brackish water. He could feel sharp nails digging into his back, leaving the kind of wounds you could hide a tracking device in.

"I'm fine," he lied. Vince looked unconvinced. He stroked Howard's hair and looked so serious, it hurt Howard's heart.

Howard was feeling half out of his mind with fear and pain, but he still got hard as soon as Vince started to caress his hair. It was becoming embarrassing. He'd been a virgin for so long and now...

Vince giggled, "I can tell when you're thinking about sex. You go all pink."

Howard closed his eyes and groaned while Vince wrapped himself around Howard, pressing his erection to Howard's stomach.

"You'll never be hornier than me, Howard. I got a libido like a fourteen-year-old boy... Still."

Vince's laugh faltered and he looked away. Howard tried to hold him tightly without crushing his ribs. He still felt awkward and clumsy when he held his waifish friend, and it didn't help that Vince was so much more experienced. Howard didn't want to know how he measured up to Vince's other partners in terms of skill, and yet he didn't feel ashamed of his fumbling. What Howard had to offer was exactly what Vince apparently wanted, unconditional (if slightly unhinged) love.

They were already nearly naked, not having any pajamas or even a change of clothing. They had shyly stripped down to their underclothes, with their backs to one another, before climbing into bed. Howard knew it was silly, they'd been less shy before they'd been intimate, but Howard was feeling overly exposed and Vince was an emotional sponge. The more crushing self-doubt and self-loathing that came from Howard, the harder it was for Vince to be his usual, sparkly self. It made Howard feel worse about himself, but also determined to hide those unhappy feelings. Vince deserved more for his generosity than to take on all of Howard's shame and misery.

"What would you like, Howard?" Vince whispered into his ear, "Tell me what will make you feel good."

Howard thought of Vince's dream, and how it felt to have Vince wrapped around and inside him.

"Remember the dream, with the fire extinguisher?" Howard asked, staring at the ceiling.

Vince went stiff (and not in the good way) making Howard immediately regret his words. Even as he fantasized about being held and... comforted, he could imagine why Vince would be hesitant. Given the tension in his body, it seemed like Vince might have a panic attack right along with Howard.

"Believe me, Howard," Vince sighed, "I would love to... you know. I mean, that would be amazin'..."

"Forget I said it," Howard snapped, embarrassment making his tone gruff. He tried to pat Vince's head in a reassuring way, but the touch was distinctly less "there, there" than "good dog" in its awkward delivery.

"I am NEVER going to forget you said it," Vince teased, poking Howard in the ribs, "And someday, I am going to take you up on that offer. I just don't think today is the day."

Howard felt tears stinging in his eyes. He wanted to blame it on the healing wound on his back and not on the humiliation of the strip search. He could feel Vince's misery through the whole ordeal. Vince never batted an eye when people called him a woman, but he'd gone pale when some dick security guard called him Howard's "little friend." Misery was Howard's shadow, but it was falling on Vince.

"Got an idea, Howard. Scoot up a bit., so your back is against the wall," Vince suggested as he jumped off the bed to grab the spare pillows and linens. "We'll prop you up to protect your injury."

Howard allowed himself to be positioned, feeling a bit ridiculous as Vince tucked him into a pile of pillows. It was comfortable, Howard had to admit, but he had no bloody idea where Vince was going with his little scheme. He rather hoped sex was still on the table. His jarring day had left him feeling at loose ends and a bit wobbly. He craved the feeling of being held and held together.

Vince grabbed his now half-empty jar of expensive face cream and quickly pulled off his pants before crawling into Howard's lap. He straddled Howard so they were face-to-face, and gave him a lingering kiss. It was nice, but it was even nicer when Vince pulled a sheet around his shoulders like a cape. When he moved back in for a kiss, his sheet fell around Howard. It was like getting a hug from a butterfly. A sexy, naked butterfly.

"This way you can feel all snug and safe," Vince explained, "without putting pressure on your wound. Genius!"

"I think you might be," Howard agreed as he tucked the sheet around him. The mild humiliation of needing to be tucked in like a child in order to shag was nothing compared to the warm feeling of being cocooned.

"Maybe I'll turn into a butterfly, too."

He didn't intend to say it out loud; his brain still wasn't working quite right. He'd have to mention it to Naboo.

Vince looked confused , but then smiled.

"The only caterpillar I see is sitting on your upper lip."

"I'll have you know it takes a baker's dozen of caterpillars to form this handsome 'tache," Howard growled. "Took a month's hard training to get them to stay in place."

"You're brown and hairy and you got skinny legs, but you ain't a caterpillar, Howard," Vince explained as he stroked Howard's hair. It was close enough to a compliment to make Howard smile.

Howard did little but stay out of the way and stare as Vince handled everything with ease. Vince blushed as he stretched himself for Howard, even as he moaned and bit his lip. Howard wasn't sure how much of it was sincere pleasure and how much it was a show put on for Howard's benefit. Vince had a remarkable ability to fake happiness, even to himself. If there was anyone who could convince himself to be happy with the consolation prize of Howard Moon, it was Vince Noir.

"I'm thrilled for anything," Howard mentioned, trying to sound casual, "So don't feel you have to... you know."

Vince rolled his eyes, "I do it 'cause I like it, you berk. I'll let you know if I start to get sore."

"No you won't."

The statement clearly caught Vince off guard. He looked guilty and chewed on his thumb nail while avoiding Howard's eyes for a bit before answering.

"If it really hurts, I'll tell you so you'll spoil me. I always tell you when I need a bit of coddling."

It might have been a half-truth, but it was a truth nonetheless. Vince had always sought out Howard when he had a hang nail or a tummy ache, pleading for tea and sympathy (and biscuits). Howard pulled Vince to his chest and they held each other tight as Vince lowered himself onto Howard's cock. The sheet made Vince a little more awkward than usual, and Howard found it charming and more than a little bit soothing. It made him feel less like the child in a man's body he'd been all his life. Vince was the only person who looked at him and saw a respectable adult. Where everyone else seemed to see failure, Vince graded on a curve. He knew what Howard's life had been like, and was proud of Howard for his humble accomplishments. Vince understood the importance of context.

Vince kept up a stream of chatter as he slowly ground himself onto Howard.

"So, good, Howard. Genius. Oh, Howard."

Howard knew he wasn't doing much to earn Vince's half articulated praise, and that he wasn't likely to develop those kinds of skills any time soon. Instead of focusing on his deficiencies or trying to convince himself that his sorry abilities were somehow impressive (his go-to reactions for most situations), Howard focused on the one thing he knew he had to offer: an encyclopedic knowledge of Vince Noir's weak spots.

He kissed the spot on Vince's neck that made him go all shuddery and told him his hair looked beautiful. Wrapped in their sheet, Vince rode Howard with the kind of honest enthusiasm that was absent from the porn of Howard's youth (or Bob Fossil's browser history). Howard licked the salty sweat from Vince's chest and complimented his makeup. It wasn't false praise, the debauched smearing of the carefully applied cosmetics was truly beautiful - proof that Vince wasn't just pulling shapes for Howard. With all his attention focused on exciting Vince, Howard was able to stay focused and centered when his brain should have been short-circuiting. Even when Vince innocently asked, "Do you love me?", Howard only allowed Old Gregg one moment of thought.

Even that single moment was enough to bring Vince's excitement to a halt. As he stroked Howard's hair and apologized, Howard created a mental checklist of everything he'd ever been too afraid to tell Vince, and then said it. Vince immediately began moving again, kissing Howard's face but leaving his mouth free to continue his litany of lovelorn devotion.

By the time he got to, "The reason I didn't run away from Eleanor when you didn't rescue me right away is I thought maybe you were watching. I was hoping you might think it was sexy," Vince was crying, but his mascara was still in tact.


	35. Chapter 35

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Vince/Howard

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: drug references, mild angst, Taylor Swift bashing

Summary: The boys finally go home. For real.

Author's note: I am settling in to re-read this entire epic so I can bring it to a close properly. I'm so happy and touched that people have stayed with this story for so long. I also have endless love for those of you just discovering it and saying "fuck you" to sleep to keep reading. That's awesome. Oh, and I have no opinion on Taylor Swift. I am neither pro or anti, I've just noticed she inspires oddly strong feelings in people.

xxx

Howard wasn't a fan of flying, it was only his last experience with a boat that convinced him to take a plane to New Orleans, but he _really_ hated Naboo's flying carpet. The fact that Saboo, Kirk, Dennis and Tony Harrison were already on the carpet (and half in the bag) when they met up with Naboo told Vince it was going to be a long ride home for his shaken friend. Howard didn't say a word, but Vince could see the misery in his body language. Once they settled on the gorilla hair covered carpet, Vince tried to be casual as he twined his fingers in Howard's, using his voluminous sleeve to hide their joined hands. Howard kept staring straight ahead, like he was trying to help Naboo fly by sheer concentration, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

"I would like to point out that everyone but me, EVERYONE but me," Saboo sneered, "had Taylor Swift already loaded on their iPods. What a bunch of whinging..."

"She sings from her heart!" wailed Tony Harrison. "She's so misunderstood. Mrs. Harrison and I like to get a bottle of champagne and put on some Swifty while we..."

"Throw up," Saboo interrupted. "That is the only good end to that sentence. You and your wife drink champers and vomit whilst listening to Taylor Swift."

"Who is this Taylor Swift fella?" Howard whispered, always self-conscious about what he didn't know.

"Always surprised? Looks like a sex doll?" Vince prompted. Howard's face remained blank until Vince formed his mouth into a surprised O.

"Oh, her," Howard nodded. Vince felt warmed by the strength of their non-verbal communication. Howard always wanted them to play charades as a team, convinced they would be an unstoppable team, but Vince had been too intimidated by all the syllable counting and worried he wouldn't understand clues. It was one thing to play at being dim, it was quite another to actually just feel stupid.

"Why are you talking about Taylor Swift?" Howard asked, quite reasonably in Vince's opinion. Saboo heaved a sigh.

"We were up half the night listening to her spew her half-baked journal entries..."

"She's an alabaster goddess!" Tony cried.

Saboo glared at Tony before continuing, "...and setting up defenses against your scaly boyfriend."

Howard pulled back like he had been slapped.

"What is wrong with you?" Naboo demanded. "I swore you knobs to eternal secrecy about what we did last night..."

Saboo, Tony, Kirk and Dennis all emphatically responded that he had done no such thing.

"Really?" Naboo asked, looking to Bollo for support. "I didn't make everyone swear on their lives not to breath a word?"

Bollo looked thoughtful and replied, "No."

"I must have said something like..."

"We need to thet up a twap to keep this fucking merman from following Howard home, and then we are getting fucked up on Blue Diesel," Saboo supplied, doing a rather unflattering impersonation of Naboo's signature South London lisp. "That's what you said. I guess the secrecy was meant to be implied."

Vince asked a few questions and quickly realized none of the other shamans had a clue why Old Gregg needed to be contained. They seemed to think he was just a run of the mill, love-sick pan-gendered merman. Once Howard recovered from his initial shock, he asked some questions of his own about the trap they'd set up. Apparently, Old Gregg would not be able to step out of the BlackSwamp without the funk-free sounds of "Teardrops on My Guitar" filling his ears. Kirk - his eyes bright with excitement - said they had tested it out, luring Old Gregg to the surface with "Atomic Dog" then making him flee like, "Dennis running away from spiders after just _hearing_ me talk about LSD".

"Well, thanks," Howard said, looking vaguely uncomfortable as usual. Only his death grip on Vince's hand indicated the strength of his reaction. "That's... Thank you, Naboo. Everyone. Much appreciated. Cheers."

Vince resisted the urge to move closer to Howard. He wasn't sure if the Shaman Council knew about the change in his relationship with Howard. He was a little disappointed when Howard pulled his hand away, but he tried to keep his face neutral. When Howard wrapped his arm around Vince and pulled him close, Vince tucked his head into the crook of Howard's neck and cried. He tried to pull himself together, but Howard cooed nonsense and the occasional "Little Man" into his ear and the tears kept coming.

"See!" Tony exclaimed. "That's what little Taylor does. She brings a grown man to tears, assuming that man has a heart and not a piece of granite..."

Saboo started talking about some guys named Puccini and Verdi, while Kirk argued that anyone who had not at some point worked for Motown Records could never break a heart. Dennis argued on behalf of the Mystic Throat-Wobblers of Xooberon and Joy Division. Vince couldn't stop crying long enough to even make an argument for "Angie", but he felt soothed when Howard insisted only jazz could convey the full depth of human emotion. Howard was banging on about his beloved Mingus when Vince nodded off, dreaming about honeysuckles, lazy rivers and the handful of jazz tunes that didn't make him break out in hives.

xxx

Their flat was just as they'd left it, just as it should be, and yet it seemed strange. So much had happened and so much had changed, yet Vince's bed still held the mountain of clothes that Howard made him leave behind. Meanwhile, Howard's bed remained so tightly made, it could be used as a trampoline (if one was willing to face Howard's anger at having his bed jumped on... or if one was too pissed to care). Vince thought their beds should have somehow morphed to reflect how they'd changed. They should at least have moved closer together. He and Howard hadn't really discussed what would happen when they got back to England. They couldn't possibly go back to the way things were before the kidnapping, and things wouldn't be the same as in New Orleans when the two of them were cocooned in their own little world.

"You should call your mum, let her know you're home safe," Vince prompted as Howard began unpacking his single suitcase.

Howard frowned, "Perhaps you could send her a text."

Vince quickly agreed and was typing away before he wondered if he was doing the right thing. He was pretty sure Howard needed to talk to his mother. Marie Laveau had said something about the Moons climbing down from their mountains and finding other ways to get high. Vince had always assumed Howard's folks were just well-meaning but inept parents still stuck in the Summer of Love. If they were genuine seers or psychics or whatever, that had to change things. If nothing else, Vince and Howard should at least be heading to Las Vegas the next time they went to America.

"Howard, I was thinkin' 'bout what Marie Laveau said about your family..."

"I don't want to talk about it," Howard snapped.

Vince went back to texting, unsurprised but a little disappointed by Howard's predictable reaction.

"Not yet," Howard added in a gentle tone. "I just need a little time. I'm didn't mean to snap. I'm sorry."

"S'alright, Howard."

"It isn't," Howard replied, sounding so earnest it made Vince nervous. Since his ordeal, Howard had been making an obvious effort not to upset Vince in any way. It had been strange enough in New Orleans, but it was downright bizarre in their bedroom. Howard was supposed to be bossy and grandiose with Vince, not conciliatory and meek. Vince was lost in his thoughts and jumped when he realized Howard was at his side.

"Make some noise!" Vince barked. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"You were hypnotized by your clothes again," Howard teased, picking up one of Vince's shirts. It was the top he'd been wearing when they kissed at Howard's party.

"Me lucky shirt," Vince joked. "Should have brought it with us."

Howard licked his lips and stared at the shirt.

"Something wrong, Howard?"

Vince was dying to fill the air with chatter, but remained silent.

"I don't want to lose this," Howard said hesitantly, "but I don't know how to keep it. I don't know what to do."

Vince wrapped his arms around Howard, savoring his friend's idiocy.

"I chased you to hell and back! I'm like a piece of gum on your shoe, you'll never shake me."

xxx

Vince had found plenty of ways to sneak into Howard's bed over the years, but it was nice to be an invited guest. The sheets had been freshly laundered before they left, but now they smelled good and Howardy again. Vince imagine there was probably plenty of his own scent sweated into the sheets, but all he could smell was tweed and safety.

"I'll call my mother," Howard said, apropos of nothing. "I'll tell her about us. She'll be happy. She loves you."

Vince snuggled into Howard's side. "I love her. I know she messed up, but... you're amazing and I wouldn't want you to be different."

"I'm not the same," Howard said quietly, keeping his face turned from Vince. "But, I'm going to try..."

"You're still my Howard," Vince said with a vehemence that surprised him. "You'll always be my Howard. My hero and protector."

"Man of action, raconteur..." Howard's tone was light but his voice wavered.

"My best friend, my first love."

Howard kept his face turned away, but his shoulders began to shake.

"S'alright, Howard," Vince cooed, trying to remember what Howard had said earlier when it was Vince who was crying. He soon gave up on trying to comfort Howard with words. That was more Howard's forte, anyway. Instead, Vince sang the first song that came into his head. It was a song his mom used to sing around the house.

"Someday, he'll come along, the man I love. And he'll be big and strong..."

Howard chuckled. Then he wept and fell asleep in Vince's arms.


	36. Chapter 36

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Warnings: language, mild angst

Summary: Howard meets with his therapist.

Author's Note: So near the end... for real this time! I'm so appreciative of everyone who has made a kind comment along the way and amazed that people have stayed with this story. I am going to do my best to wrap it up in a satisfying way!

"How are things with Vince?" Saboo asked in his deep and surprisingly soothing voice.

Howard hesitated before saying, "Great. Things are great. No problems to report."

Saboo nodded.

"Really, things are terrific."

"Do you think I don't believe you?" Saboo asked. His tone was neutral, but his face was full of warmth and understanding. It was strange for Howard to be treated with such kindness, especially from the prickly Saboo. It was still unnerving.

"He wants me to talk to my mother. It's the only thing he's asked for and I know I should just do it before..."

"Before?" Saboo prompted.

_Before he gives up on me_ was the real answer. It was something they had discussed more than once, and Howard knew damn well that Saboo already knew what he meant. There was no reason to say it out loud. They had already covered Howard's relentless fear that he wasn't recovering quickly enough and that it was only a matter of time until Vince realized his Howard was gone, replace by someone even needier and more neurotic. Someone who would never be able to relax. Someone Vince would always have to look after, like an anxious puppy who cannot be left alone lest he bark all night and tear up the carpet.

"We've discussed your ambivalence about speaking to your mother," Saboo offered when Howard couldn't think of anything further to say.

Howard would rather phone up Bob Fossil for a chat than his mother. Ambivalent was an understatement.

"There's already been so much..." Howard trailed off, unsure of what he was even trying to say.

"Has Vince given you a time frame of when he would like you to call your mother?"

Howard already knew where Saboo was going, but he still needed to go through the steps.

"He wants me to call when I'm ready."

"Are you ready?"

"No," Howard admitted. He wasn't ready, and he wasn't sure he ever would be.

xxx

Saboo was nearly 700 years old, although he didn't look a day over 150 by his planet's standards. Like many interplanetary shamans, he found living on Earth to be trying in many ways. Earth was a popular destination for magical folk. Unlike most planets, Earthlings had once believed in gods and monsters and magic, but then a fad religion came along by the name of "reason" and they stopped believing their eyes. A plum by the name of Newton said apples fell to the Earth because of something called gravity and the dozy bastards called in science. Meanwhile Ted, the magnetic ghost who was actually keeping everything on the planet from flying away, got zero attention. Earthlings worried about the ozone layer and global warming - problems that could easily be solved by doing a couple of dances to appease the gods of patches and giant ice cubes, but were totally oblivious to the fact that Ted was ready to let them all go flying into the atmosphere.

Just like he'd done with the Martians.

Earthlings were so counter evolved, they questioned, "Was there life on Mars?" even though they had all seen the pictures of the giant fucking face on the planet's surface. Torn between the obvious and "science", Earthlings decided the face was a coincidence.

Because Earthlings were so inexplicably ignorant and determined to stay that way, it was easy for a shaman to set up a fairly normal life there. On his own planet, Saboo was hounded day and night for his magic. On Earth, people mainly asked him if he knew where to buy weed.

The downside of Earthling companions, other than their mind-blowing idiocy, was their painfully short life spans. With their human chums dropping like flies, every shaman needed a hobby, a way to stay grounded. Dennis had his crossword puzzles and extreme sports, Naboo had drugs, and Saboo dabbled in psychiatry. He'd actually begun his career doing coke with Sigmund Freud. When the genius finally noticed cocaine was addictive (and stopped prescribing it like a vitamin supplement) he turned to psychoanalysis, and Saboo was intrigued. He followed the field through its many bullshit phases until he met a man by the name of Carl Rogers. Through Rogers, Saboo learned something important about Earthlings: they really needed to be liked. More than anything, it seemed that what made Earthlings recover from the various traumas of their short lives was to feel accepted and not judged by at least _one_ person. They needed kindness and compassion like air, and yet Earthlings were generally nasty gits to one another.

So, Saboo set up a practice and, one at a time, helped idiot Earthlings to face another day. He could have wiped Howard and Vince's memories, and made it like the kidnapping had never happened. He could have given them enough hazy, boozy Bourbon St. memories that they could have returned to their old lives as though nothing had happened. No more night terrors, trembling hands, or flashbacks. When Howard broke into a cold sweat just trying to say the word rape, or when he wept for what he saw as the inevitable loss of Vince's love, Saboo was tempted to just make it all go away. An Earthling of Howard's advanced age couldn't be wasting his time being afraid. What kept Saboo on course was the irrefutable fact that Howard's life had been improved by his ordeal. He was facing his fears, fighting for what mattered to him and shagging Vince instead of just eyefucking him while other people were trying to eat. Howard was a stronger and a better man than he had been before. Saboo had always written Howard and Vince off as typical Earthling idiots, but their resilience was beautiful and inspiring. It was cases like Howard that made Saboo continue to council humans even after he started getting bored of their primitive problems. Saboo's greatest joy in life (other than canning his own preserves) was seeing a sad sack like Howard blossom into someone worth knowing.

That was also why Saboo also had a BTEC National in hair design.

"Why do you think Vince wants you to call your mother?" Saboo asked, when it became clear Howard was not going to speak.

"He wants to know what I am."

It was important to be genuine and authentic in counseling, but it was anti-therapeutic to call someone a whinging tit, so Saboo held his tongue. Vince could summon a giant, deadly ball of chewed gum to seek his revenge and Howard once died and went to Monkey Hell. Some people might have taken those to be clues they were of magical ilk, but not Howard and Vince. They needed a Voodoo queen to come back from the dead to tip them off.

Howard looked up at Saboo through his long and unkempt hair, with his sad little cockerel eyes. Howard hated to talk about his magical roots. After years of desperately trying to find a way to be different and special, all Howard wanted was to be normal, boring and to reside in Vince's shadow.

"I think Vince knows who you are." Saboo took it as a good sign when Howard didn't argue the semantics, he just ducked back under his hair. Saboo could have him sorted out with a flattering asymmetrical cut in two minutes flat, but it wasn't his place.

And while he offered his counseling services free of charge, Saboo didn't pick up his scissors for less than two hundred Euros.

When Saboo suggested Howard get a haircut, the Earthling squirmed in his seat before mumbling, "Vince usually cuts it for me."

Vince, the midnight barber. It was treacherous territory. Howard currently could not admit that there was a single thing Vince had ever done that was not perfect. He seemed terrified of being in any way disloyal to Vince, even in his own mind.

"Maybe you should ask Vince for a haircut," Saboo suggested, trying to convey his sincere concern through his eyes and tone of voice. "Because you look like a scraggly tramp."

xxx

Vince's hands were shaking, but there was no way he was going to make a mistake. He'd been itching to give Howard a trim since they got back to England, but he was afraid to even suggest it. After being banned from cutting Howard's hair against his will, they had worked out a schedule for when Vince was allowed to go at Howard's locks. Every eight weeks, Vince was allowed fifteen minutes for washing, cutting and styling. Those were a powerful fifteen minutes, because he then had to look at the results for another eight weeks. He was still recovering from the time he'd missed an especially tight curl and left Howard with one bit of hair about two inches longer than the rest. Howard went out of his way to highlight the stray hair and use it to torment Vince. He'd even caught Howard borrowing his straightners to iron the curl out to its full length.

They'd been home for three months, sharing Howard's bed and sharing each other's dreams. Sometimes they made love in reality, sometimes it was in their dreamworld. There was no lack of intimacy or touching, and yet Howard's hair grew long and shaggy and Vince didn't dare do a thing about it.

With the stray curl, Vince had given it and snipped it in the night. He'd found traces of glitter spray on the lock of hair, evidence of how far Howard was willing to go to annoy him, but that didn't stop Howard from yelling at him the next day. He said Vince couldn't be trusted. It hurt because it was true. Howard had tested Vince, and Vince had failed.

For months, he'd been itching to do something to Howard's shambolic mane, but he waited for permission. In a way, it was another test, and he was determined not to fail.

Howard had not issued a time limit, but Vince moved quickly out of habit. As the floor became littered with curls, Howard seemed to be sitting straighter. It was like a literal weight being lifted off the Northerner's head, as though the baby fine hair had any real heft to it.

He cut Howard's hair the way Vince liked it best, a little long on top so he never quite looked like he owned a comb, but short enough on the back and sides that he didn't look rabid. It was the opposite of a mullet, party in the front, business in the back.

Howard ran a hand through his hair and watched with a satisfied smile as it fell chaotically about his face.

"Thanks, Vince."

"Cheers, Howard."


	37. Chapter 37

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupiscence66

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: angst, alcohol

Summary: Sally, Kylie and Vince go out for a night on the town in Camden.

Author's note: I've had such awful writer's block, I made bluestocking79 read this just to make sure it wasn't total shit. I know many of you have been reading for a very long time and being awfully patient, and I thank you. There are a couple of little angsty bits I feel are necessary to complete the story. Here's one of them!

Sally had been dubious about getting a Cam den make-over. She'd been worried she would end up looking like freak show (and she totally did), but she kind of liked it.

"Oh my god!" Kylie squealed, jumping up and down in a pair of frighteningly high platform shoes. "You look Scary Spice raided Posh Spice's closet..." Kylie cast a glance at Sally's Afro-puffs, "and then Baby Spice did her hair."

"They have names, you know," Vince scolded as he spun in front of the mirror, admiring his new cape. "Some of them are called Mel, and I think there's an Emily or an Emma..."

Sally and Howard would be spearheading tomorrow's museum tour—Howard had labeled their handouts: Fun-see'um!—but their first day in London had to be spent shopping and dancing. Sally had considered staying back at the flat with Howard, but she couldn't deny the appeal of shopping with Vince. In the five months she'd spent as Kylie's girlfriend, Sally was starting to get downright frumpy. Kylie's apartment was full of perfume and pastels, and it made Sally long for a simple beige. She understood why Kylie didn't like coming to Sally's apartment; even if "it looks like it's full of dust mites and vampires" was a bit harsh, Sally's apartment was a bit utilitarian and dark. And dusty.

Sally wasn't ready to give up her apartment quite yet, but she spent nearly every night in Kylie's elegantly appointed apartment, drinking herbal tea from a mug that matched the kitchen curtains and wondering how everything in the apartment managed to smell like magnolias. In unconscious rebellions, Sally dressed in drab colors and, with the best hair products in the world at her fingertips, wore a headscarf every day.

She needed to find a midway point between frumpy librarian and Black Barbie. Her moddish A-line Union Jack mini-dress wasn't quite what she'd had in mind, but it certainly wasn't boring.

"I feel bad leaving Howard on his own," Kylie mused as she patted her own hairstyle. A series of braids wrapped around curls was piled on top of her head, making her hair look like a vase full of flowers. It was not the most elaborate or strange look Sally had witnessed on her partner, but it was one of the most precarious. Sally's grandmother had told her as a child that a Black woman didn't need to waste her life worrying about her hair, and that Sally should be happy as she was. Kylie, on the other hand, claimed to have spent about "80-85%" of her childhood at a beauty shop, most of it just reading magazines and waiting for her turn to be tortured into high-gloss perfection.

"This is the longest I've been away from Howard since..." Vince trailed off and looked concerned before plastering a grin on his face. "He's got Bollo and Naboo. He's fine."

Sally reached out to pat Vince on the arm, while Kylie gave him a careful (non-outfit wrinkling) hug.

"Of course, he's fine!" Kylie cried. "He's got a shaman and a gorilla looking after him. With a posse like that, I'd even feel safe back in New Orleans..."

Kylie trailed off and looked uncomfortable. For all her perfectly justified fears of being victimized in the Big Easy, she and Sally had never even considered something along the lines of Howard's ordeal.

"I think he's glad to have some time alone," Vince added with forced cheer. "I'm always under his feet, even when he's dreaming."

It made her feel like a terrible pessimist, but the longer Sally had to consider the idea of sharing dreams with someone else, the more catastrophes she could envision. She'd spent enough time scratching her head over the meanings of her own dreams; she really wouldn't want someone else seeing that weird dream where she ordered a hotdog made of actual dog, or the all-too-upsetting sex-with-a-man dreams. She wasn't disgusted by heterosexual sex –actually, she was a _little _disgusted –but they were not images she would ever want to exist in Kylie's head.

She certainly never wanted to walk in on Kylie's dreams. She imagined they were full of statistics and unicorns.

"So you guys still share dreams?" Kylie asked. "_And_ you still live together? I think if I had to endure one dream about this one organizing her sock drawer, I'd be history."

Sally rolled her eyes. The dream had been about Sally's socks suddenly not fitting in the sock drawer, no matter how she arranged them. It had clearly been a stress dream. The sock organizing was just a metaphor.

One she clearly should have never discussed with Kylie.

"Yeah," Vince said, his tone non-committal. "We still wander into each other's dreams. It's well embarrassing sometimes... You can't control you dreams n'all."

Vince was smiling, but he wasn't making eye contact. His piercing eyes—highlighted by his now royal blue hair—seemed to be piercing Sally's eyebrows as he tried to use his charm to smooth over the sudden tension in the air.

Sally took Vince by the hand and guided him to a loveseat conveniently placed for supportive friends (and bored husbands).

"What's going on, Vince?"

Vince's eyes immediately welled with tears as he feigned ignorance. Sally didn't let up. She glanced at Kylie, who was looking lost, and nodded towards the other side of the loveseat. It was a tight squeeze for the three of them, but Sally had a feeling Vince needed to be literally surrounded by friends.

"S'nothing. Howard just had a stupid dream, and it's not like it _means_ anything... I mean, it means something, but it doesn't mean what it might mean if you didn't know what it meant."

Kylie was mouthing something about her failure to follow Vince, but Sally had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

"Who was it?"

"A woman we used to work with. Mrs. Gideon." Vince was beginning to sniffle. "She was well brainy and sophisticated and mature, and Howard really fancied her."

"And how did she feel about Howard?" Sally asked, increasingly certain she knew why Vince was so upset.

"She never noticed him, she couldn't even remember who he was. He was always trying to get her attention."

"So you know what the dream is about? Right?" Sally gently prodded. "It's about healing that old wound. It's not about..."

"Making love by candlelight?" Vince supplied. Sally tried not to wince, but Kylie cursed under her breath.

"It's not about sex. It's probably about a lot of things, but it's not..."

Vince nearly knocked Sally over with a hug.

"You're so smart," Vince gushed. "S'mazing, the things you understand. I know Howard wasn't doin' anything wrong, it's just... He was just asleep. I'm not angry or anything..."

Kylie rested her head on Vince's shoulder as he continued to hug Sally. It was like being hugged by a beautiful, two-headed monster.

Now that was some uncomfortable dream fodder.

"Howard adores you," Kylie crooned into Vince's ear. "I don't know what the hell Sally is going on about, but there is no way Howard would prefer some weird old spinster to you."

Sally silently noted that Kylie had translated brainy, sophisticated and mature into 'weird old spinster.'

"She was dead sexy, though," Vince giggled, wiping tears from his eyes. "She was like Anne Bancroft in that movie where she was pretending to be older than Dustin Hoffman."

Sally mentally filed Vince's description of "The Graduate" away with Kylie's 'spinster' reference, under 'things I don't need to make a big deal about at this very moment'. Kylie was helping her be less "fucking pedantic."

"What was Howard's reaction?" Sally asked, trying to stay on track. She hated to see Vince so unhappy, and she knew how good he was at deflecting people from noticing his sadness.

"He was so upset. He still feels bad about it, I think. He always feels bad these days, and I don't want to make it worse by bringing it up."

Kylie was draping herself over Vince's shoulders like a strange (but beautiful) second cape, her flower vase hair spilling over Vince's shoulder.

"Talk to him about it," Sally urged him. "Give him a chance to reassure you and get it off his own chest."

"Listen to Sally," Kylie insisted. "She is crazy smart."

Sally felt her cheeks getting warm at the compliment.

"Enough of this girly feeling stuff," Vince exclaimed as he stood up and shook out his cape. "It's time to get our mani/pedis!"

Sally wasn't fooled for a moment by Vince's dazzling smile, but she had faith in Vince and Howard. They'd work things out.

xxx

Vince was a bit tipsy from the various rum drinks Kylie and Sally had been ordering all night. It made him happy to see the two of them together, different in so many ways, but sharing a love of sugary rum and empirically demonstrating the long-term dangers of hydraulic fracturing. They were like a brainy, Black, lesbian, adult Romeo and Juliet, without the sad ending. When he'd tried to explain as much to Sally, she'd taken his drink from him.

Vince tried to carefully move around the dark room so as not to disturb Howard, but his cape promptly caught on his 'clothing chair.' Both Vince, the chair, and the dozen outfits piled on top of the chair tumbled to the floor in a series of crashes and tinkling noises.

Howard shot up in bed and turned on the bedside lamp. He blinked a few times, looking confused, before hanging his head and sighing.

Vince tried not to take his apparent disappointment to heart. Maybe Howard had been dreaming he was jamming with Hot Wee-Wee Jefferson.

"Expecting someone else?" Vince asked, trying to sound cheerful and teasing. It didn't take much to upset Howard on a good day, and he hadn't been having a lot of good days recently. Seeing Saboo had helped Howard in a lot of ways, but revisiting his experiences had taken its toll.

"No," Howard said ruefully. "I've been expecting you for a while now."

Vince felt a stab of guilt for staying out so late. He'd considered coming home earlier, but Sally and Kylie had been having fun, and he'd hated to ruin their evening.

And it was nice to spend the night dancing. It had been a long time. Howard had gone out with Vince, trying to be a good sport, but the crowds made him panic (as did the inevitable playing of a Rick James song).

Vince climbed across the bed to Howard. His clothes were sweaty and he was getting his boots on the duvet; Howard should have been scolding him, but he was silent.

Vince put his head on Howard's shoulder. "What's wrong, Howard?"

Howard tried to pull away, but Vince held him tight. Howard went limp in Vince's arms and mumbled, "Just get it over with."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me how horrible I am, and how I deserve to be alone, and how Vince would be better off without me. You can't possibly make me feel worse."

Howard's face was blank and his eyes were dull. He felt like a ragdoll.

"Are you asleep, Howard?" Vince asked. "Are you sleep talking? Tell me what you really think about those new trousers I bought. Do they make my arse look big?"

"Yes," Howard sighed, "and that's why I like them, but I'm not going to fall for it. You can be as cute as you want, but I know you aren't real."

Vince raked his fingers through Howard's hair, instinctively separating and shaping his curls. Even Howard had to admit that his hair looked amazing now that Vince was allowed to play with it day and night.

"What's going on?" Howard asked after a few moments of silence.

"I'm playing with your hair and you're talking bollocks," Vince offered, continuing to groom Howard's hair. It already looked good, but Vince wanted it to look just right.

"I don't know why I dreamt about her. I hardly ever think of her, honestly. I'm so sorry, Vince. I know you don't believe it, but I've never wanted to hurt you."

Howard's eyes were wet, but there was almost no expression on his face. He just looked defeated. Vince stroked Howard's hair and hummed.

"Weather Report?" Howard asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Ugh! Look what you've done to me with your jazzy rubbish! I need to take an antihistamine before I break out in hives!"

Howard laughed and Vince kissed the worry lines on his forehead. The wrinkles only deepened as Howard reached up and touched Vince's hair. It wasn't until he saw his new navy blue hair wrapped around Howard's finger that it all clicked into place.

"It's blue!" Vince yelled, causing Howard to jump. "My hair's not black, it's just really dark blue!"

Vince felt sick to his stomach as Howard examined his hair. In the past eight months, Vince had dyed his hair a myriad of colors, but carefully avoided black. The last thing he wanted was to remind Howard of the horrible Vince of his nightmares.

"I'm just daft, Howard. I didn't think. I should have talked to Sally and Kylie. They'd have been smart enough to know it would look black. I'll get it taken care of tomorrow."

Howard continued to play with Vince's hair.

"I like it, it's pretty. It shows off your eyes."

Vince blinked back tears as they switched positions so that he was lying in Howard's arms.

"I'm sorry I'm so dim," Vince sniffled.

Howard hushed him and kissed his forehead.

"You're the opposite of dim. You're brilliant. You border on blinding." Howard's voice was soft and low and reminded Vince they hadn't had sex since Howard's unfortunate dream. "I've always liked your hair, no matter what color."

"Even my real color? When I looked like a muddy golden retriever?"

"Even when you looked like a dandelion," Howard agreed, giving Vince a squeeze. "You should get some sleep, Little Man. We have a big day ahead of us."

Vince snuggled into Howard's arms. "I have a feeling Sally and Kylie might want to postpone the funsee'um trip. Sally was collecting the swizzle sticks from her drinks in her hair. She looked like a porcupine."

Howard laughed and continued to stroke Vince's hair. "You must be tired."

"Not that tired," Vince purred, kissing Howard's neck. "Tell me more about how much you like my hair."

.


	38. Chapter 38

Title: Let the Good Times Roll

Author: Concupid

Pairing: Howard/Vince

Rating: R

Warnings: angst, a little sex, sappiness

Summary: Vince has a lot of regrets, Howard does not.

Author's note: I've had terrible writer's block. I'm really trying to finish this story! Thank you to anyone who has held on. I really appreciate your patience and support.

Vince would joke that he'd never left Shoreditch, but it wasn't that much of an exaggeration. His parents had created their own happy little family in London and rarely strayed. Vince had some relatives scattered about, but his _family_ had consisted of his mother, father and Howard. Other than the occasional foray into Monkey Hell or the wooded mountains (that happened to be right outside of Dalston), Vince rarely left the city.

Sometimes he wished he'd traveled a bit more. Not because he felt he was missing out on anything, anywhere without Howard would surely be boring, but because everyone he'd ever slept with also lived in the city and it could get a little claustrophobic. He'd been his most promiscuous as a teen and while under the influence, so he wasn't sure he could even recognize half of his partners.

It wasn't a good feeling.

Especially when Howard was still struggling with so many insecurities. Every time they came across someone Vince knew, even if it was just an old friend, Howard had a setback. He never said anything, or even asked about Vince's history, but if a good looking man smiled at Vince, Howard inevitably had nightmares. Worst of all, Howard blamed himself for his reaction, as if he could control his feelings if he just worked hard enough. Howard had himself on some kind of timeline, convinced his healing could be scheduled. Vince had run out of ways to try and tell Howard he was doing fine, and that his resilience was beautiful. Sometimes he wondered if Howard would have believed someone a little smarter or more grown-up.

Vince and Howard were supposed to be out for a romantic meal, and now Vince was being trapped in a corner by an unwanted blast from his past.

"You look good," Geoffrey murmured in a husky voice, as though it had been days rather than years since their tryst. "I've thought about you. A lot."

"But not enough to return my phone calls." Vince's tone was harsher than he'd intended. He was surprised by the resurfacing of such an old hurt. Vince wasn't usually deluded about one night stands, not even as a teen, but Geoffrey had seemed so nice and caring. He had looked enough like Howard to inspire something a little like love in Vince's eighteen-year-old heart. The memory of getting the cold shoulder from Geoffrey after their night together still made Vince feel small.

Why hadn't he gone a bit further from home for his little sexual adventures? Why didn't he ever think things out?

Vince jerked away when he felt Geoffrey's hand on his face, but Geoffrey held on to Vince's hair.

"Oi! Don't grab the hair," Vince snapped. Only Howard was allowed to grab his hair, and he would be wandering back from the men's room at any moment. Vince needed to get rid of Geoffrey before he had a chance to ruin their dinner (and Howard's sleep).

"It was great running into you and all," Vince lied, taking a step backwards, "but, I'm here with my boyfriend and our table is probably ready. Catch you next decade!"

Vince tried to walk away, but Geoffrey grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Why don't we exchange numbers?" Geoffrey asked in what he must have considered a sexy voice. "Just in case you ever want to catch up?"

Vince was in the process of shaking his arm free when he heard someone yell, "Leave him!"

Vince barely recognized the sound of Howard's voice. When Howard yelled, there was usually a tinge of panic in his voice, but he sounded firm and authoritative as he told Geoffrey to piss off.

Vince grabbed Howard by the hand, hoping to assure his partner that he was in no way interested in Geoffrey, but Howard was in Man of Action mode.

"Relax," Geoffrey said, putting his hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "Just catching up with an old friend."

"No, you were grabbing at my mate, sir. You need to learn some manners. Learn to respect a person's personal space."

Howard continued to glare at Geoffrey as he subtly moved in front of Vince, as though he feared Geoffrey was going to make another grab for Vince's hair.

"Harold?" Geoffrey asked, his eyes widening in surprise. "No, what was it...?"

"It's Howard T.J. Moon, and I'm Vince's... I'm Vince's, and I won't have you pawing at him and being disrespectful."

Vince smiled and squeezed Howard's hand. Howard couldn't bring himself to say 'boyfriend' or 'lover'. He thought those terms sounded silly. Vince had rejected 'partner' as too business-like and 'gentleman companion' as too Howardy, leaving them at an impasse.

Geoffrey stared at Howard, taking in his height and build, his wavy dark hair and warm brown eyes and clearly seeing the resemblance.

"My apologies," Geoffrey said, raising his hands in surrender. "Good for you, Vince. I'm glad things worked out for you. Truly."

"Yeah, well..." Vince wasn't entirely sure how to respond. "Thanks."

Geoffrey told Howard he was a lucky man.

Howard responded somberly, "I know that, sir."

xxx

Vince found Howard in a sinking boat, bailing water with a shoe.

"Howard, you're having one of those dreams," Vince called out as he walked across the water. "You're upset about that wanker we ran into. Believe me, Howard. You have nothing to be worried about."

The water and boat disappeared, and Vince and Howard were left in a featureless room. It was Howard's default setting. Whenever he realized he was dreaming, he would go to this room.

"They're all so good looking! And tall. That berk looked like a movie star," Howard wailed, throwing his soggy shoes in the air. "I know you don't care what I look like, but it gets to me sometimes."

Vince wrapped his arms around him and began to imagine Howard projected against a bare wall. He created the image slowly, one feature at a time, as though he were painting it. In real life, he could never draw Howard quite right. He never looked beautiful enough to be confused with the real thing.

"That's not what I look like, Little Man," Howard chided him, gently.

"S'what I see."

Howard rested his chin on Vince's head. They sat in comfortable silence as Vince tried to show his lifelong friends what he saw when he looked at Howard. Perhaps if Howard could see himself through Vince's eyes...

"What's wrong, Little Man?"

Howard picked up on the shift in Vince's mood before Vince had formed a full thought.

"I just wonder..." Vince was not surprised that he couldn't articulate his feelings.

Howard pulled Vince to his chest, and threw his own image up on a wall of Vince - black haired and laughing.

"You used to be so happy," Howard said quietly.

"I look like an anime character with those big eyes," Vince teased as his real eyes filled with tears. If Vince's image of Howard was a bit rose tinted, Howard's image of Vince had been given some kind of Disney cartoon filter. Whenever Howard projected an image of Vince in his dreams, it was either of exaggerated innocence and sweetness or of harsh beauty. Vince's nose never looked weird and he was never pulling a mad face. In Howard's mind, Vince was always physically perfect.

Disney Vince suddenly stopped laughing, and looked grief-stricken. Vince's eyes darted between the image and Howard's face. Howard looked unspeakably sad, and something clicked in Vince's brain cell.

"I'm sad because you're sad, you big muppet! You don't make me sad, seeing people I love in pain makes me sad. Just like anyone else," Vince explained. Howard's guilty expression told Vince he'd hit the nail on the head. "I'm happy when you're happy. If you want me to be happy, then take care of yourself and stopping beating yourself up so much. You didn't do anything wrong."

That was where the problems always came in. Howard couldn't seem to shake his lingering guilt over what happened. Seeing his dreams, Vince knew exactly how badly Howard was still hurting from his ordeal. Even when he was bright and happy during the day, and things felt like old times, Howard's dreams played out his subconscious struggles.

"You were ready to rip someone's head off for grabbing my arm, but you keep beating yourself up over what happened to you," Vince pointed out. Immediately, an image projected on the wall of a massive, model-handsome giant as he man-handled a big-eyed (and Bambi-like) Vince.

"No one should ever treat you like that. That tit box doesn't know who you are if he thinks it's okay to treat you like that," was Howard's whispered response. Vince had never felt threatened by Geoffrey, but he had been very afraid of Howard seeing and being hurt by the conversation. Howard had misunderstood Vince's fear, but he had come to the rescue. Howard was still Vince's hero.

"He didn't know me, did he? I was just some dumb kid who was up for it. Not everyone thinks I'm something special, Howard. Most people don't think I'm special."

"I think you're special."

Vince pulled Howard down for a kiss. Even in their shared dream, Howard's mustache poked at Vince's nose. He knew the feel of every part of the Northerner's body against his own. They had been together for almost nine months, and even during Howard's occasional bouts of stress-induced impotence, they were physically intimate on a daily basis. Sometimes they had crazy, mind-blowing, skin chaffing sex and sometimes they just snuggled or snogged. Howard was very worried every time he couldn't perform, but Vince loved the nights he spent holding and comforting Howard. During the day, they joked and sparred and exchanged dopey, loving looks - the way they always had - but at night, they didn't need to speak. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they crimped, but sometimes they would just lie in silence and hold one another - grateful to finally give in to all their soppiest romantic fantasies. Vince and Howard had made love on a bed of roses (after Howard carefully checked each stem for thorns), by candlelight, and while listening to 'Angie' by the Stones. Clever Howard had given Vince blowies while playing Weather Report until the ghastly noise of jazz fusion actually started to turn Vince on. They were living Vince's fantasy of being best friends and family, and having frequent (and sometimes freaky) sex.

"I have everything I ever wanted," Vince whispered into Howard's ear. "The only thing that could make me happier is if you were a little happier. I'm sorry for what you went through, Howard, and I'm sorry I don't really know how to take care of you. I don't know how to take care of myself. I ate five donuts for breakfast today. It's like I don't understand how food works..."

Howard pulled Vince's hand to his mouth and kissed it, "No one has ever taken better care of me, than you."

Sadly, that was probably true.

"I'm sorry I didn't do better in the beginning, and that I kind of took advantage of you, early on. I didn't mean..."

Vince was silenced by a sloppy kiss from Howard. Howard leaned them back until they were lying down. Howard was hard against Vince's hip. The panic that kept Howard from performing when awake generally didn't follow him into his dreams. Their clothes just sort of disappeared, the way things do in dreams, leaving them naked in one another's arms.

"You saved my life, Vince. In more ways than one," Howard explained as he kissed his way down Vince's chest and stomach. Don't let me make you paranoid, you're find just the way you are."

Vince could hardly argue when Howard's mouth wrapped around his cock. Clearly, Vince Noir had done something right.


End file.
